NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. 



BnMER.'3 Edition 



PS 635 
.Z9 1195 
Copy 1 



SF Pl7\y3 m 



A BIT 0' BLARNEY 




COPYRIGHT. 1889. BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 



Something New, Funny and Refined. 



Prof. BAXTER'S 

Great Invention, 

OR 

OLD mfliDs mnE pw. 

A COMEDY-FARCE IN ONE ACT- 

By MARY B. HORNE, 

Author of "The Peak Sisters," "The Carnival of Days," "The BGv>k 
OF Drills, Parts I and II," Etc. 



For three male and three female characters. Modern every-day costumes. 
Scenery of the very simplest character. Plays about an hour, or longer, 
according to specialties, songs, etc., introduced This entertainment is a decided 
novelty and is excruciatingly funny. First-rate Irish soubrette part, and capital 
comic old man. Prof. Baxter's patent process for making old people young 
1,gaiu suits everybody, both on the stage and off 

Price, - - _ _ 16 cents. 

SCENE.— Dr. Baxter's Office. Mary Ann and the Professor. A scientific break- 
fast. Patients. A sweet young thing of fifty. Mary Ann romances. The 
old dude. More patients. A back number. Getting ready for the operation. 
Roxanna and the Doctor. Greek meets Greek. Electro-motive force vs. a 
female tongue. The " gossimeres." The current begins to work. Woolley 
has a very strange feeling. Charged with electricity. " I never charge, but 
take cash down." Filling the cabinets. A little backward in coming forward. 
Dorothy's shyness. " What, get in there witl^ two men ! " Mary Ann sacri- 
ficed to propriety. Koxanna and the Doctor again. Getting the mitten. 

• " You press the button, and I'll do the rest." The current full on. Groans 
of the wounded. After the battle. Old maids and old dudes made new. 
Roxanna's work undone. "It's a deep laid plot!" Celebrating the event. 
•' The dude who couldn't dance." Mary Ann and " The Irish Jubilee." It is 
in the' air and Roxanna catches it. A terrible catastrophe. The deaf old 

■^ gentlemen gets overdone. The Professor adopts the old infant. Marrying 
and giving in marriage. The " invention " pronounced a grand success. 



Walter H. Baker & Co.. 23 Winter St.. Boston. 



A BIT O' BLARNEY 



AN IRISH PLAY OF THE PRESENT TIME 



In El}xtt acts 



BY 

FITZGERALD MURPHY 

AUTHOR OF "SHAMROCK AND ROSE," "THE IRISH STATESMAN," ETC. 



BOSTON /-^my 

1893 



CHARACTERS. \ /^^ 



(as originally performed at the park theatre, LOS ANGELES, CAL., 
APRIL lO, 1S93.) 

"RODY THK KOY^R, a bit 0/ Irish simshine . . . . Fitzgerald Murphy 
CUBBEEN CASSIDY, a creature 0/ circumsiames . . Frank M. Rea dick 

SQUIRE ROSSMORE,rt«/««r/^r Frank C. Thompson 

EDWARD LAWTON, a Califoruia lawyer . . . . A. C. Sutherland 

lEBBY V,\]^¥>.E, his own servatit Frank De Camp 

CAPTAIN Qk'iTEE'YOYi, of the Royal Dragoons . . .Maurice Sharpleigh 

CORKERRY, a cockney sergeant J. L. Ames 

BkV.'QEY Bk'R.'^EY, an antiquated relic i}/ lost boyhood . . Grant From an 

ROSALEEN O'CONNOR, a sweet /lower Jro?n an Irish hillside, 

Miss Georgie Woodthorpe 

LADY PATRICE, i?^^'j jw/^r Miss Millie Freeman 

SHEVAUN JACK, a widow with a shebeen . . Miss Alma Shvmer 

Peasants, Soldiers, and Police. 




Copyright, 1893, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 



All Rights Reserved. 



Notice. — The author of "A Bit o' Blarney" reserves to himself the right of per- 
forming the play in all parts of the United States. This publication is for the benefit of 
such managers or actors as may have been duly authorized by the author or his agents to 
perform the drama. All other persons are hereby notified that any production of this 
play without due authority will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. 

To Amateurs. — The above notice does not apply to amateur dramatic clubs, which 
may perform this drama without special permission, provided the author's full name 
shall appear on all programm«= Tir,ct»rc r^^ ^tv,.:.^ o^Ur^vtioo^Puts of j^e piece. 



THE ORIGINAL MUSIC 

Of this play is not published or for sale. Any airs may be substituted to suit the tastes 
of the performers. 

2 



a,-3^f^/ 



COSTUMES. 

Rody the Rover. Gray ragged coat, breeches, and leggings, gray shooting-cap, red 

flannel shirt, and loose necktie. In last act he dresses in neat corduroy breeches and 

blue stockings, flowered waistcoat, and dons Squire's smoking-robe. 
Mr. Lawton. While; sombrero hat and modern gray business suit. 
Teddy Burke. Irish peasant dress, knee-breeches, etc. 

Squire Rossmore. Modern stylish English dress, silk hat, Prince Albert coat, etc. 
Cuddeen Cassidy. Irish peasduL Uiess, baiLercJ iiat, old-fashioned swallow tail:-, 

breeches and leggings, and dark flannel shirt. 
Capt. Castleton. Either English officer's costume of red and gold, or black costume of 

Royal Irisli Constabulary. 
Corkerry. A sergeant's regimentals (comic make-up). 
Darbjy Darney. Black knee-breeches, waistcoat, white shirt, and comic hat. Woollen 

stockings and low-cut shoes. 
Rosaleen. Irish peasant girl's dress (long to ankles), and cloak with hood thrown 

back. Colors selected. 
Lady Patrice. Act i. Green riding-habit. Act ii. Lady's white summer dress. 

Act III. Household negligee. 
Shevaun. Comedy old woman make-up. Rough peasant dress. 



PROPERTY LIST. 



Act I. Furze tree with yellow blossoms fixed on ; grass mats; lots of artificial flowers; 
two little whiskey kegs ; horse-hoof effect ; little black box containing sealed docu- 
ment ; blackthorn stick for Rody ; cigars for Squire and Lawton ; little piece of 
black stone for " Bit o' Blarney "; snare-drum on stage; six guns; one loaded gun ; 
cartridge ; artificial rose and " shamrock " for Rody ; sword. 

Act II. Two tables; basin of water outside of window, and handkerchief; blackthorn 
for Castleton ; chairs ; one three-legged stool ; old fiddle and bow ; sand for dancing ; 
mattress outside window; kettle to hang in fireplace; lampblack for sides of kettle , 
bottles for bar; glasses for drinking; clubs for peasants; little jar — a cruiskeen ; 
wreath of white flowers and green for Rosaleen ; cupboard with cups, etc. ; tin 
basin full of soaped water ; candle in candlestick (on table) ; matches (on table). 

Act III. Writing-desk and chair; papers, pen, and ink; document (sealed); two 
lamps (lighted) ; sofa; decanter of brandy ; glass of brandy and soda ; three pistols ; 
knife for Cassidy ; black box with little stone ; wallet with notes for Squire. 



LIGHT PLOT. 

ACT I. 

Lights one-quarter down. 

Ctie. " Guard it wid my life." 

Lights three-fourths down slowly. 

Cite. "Muidher! I'm kilt ! " 

Flash up lights for a second, thunder effect. 

Cue. " It's a lie! " 

Flash all lights up for Curtain. 

ACT II. 

Lights full up. 

Cite. " My sweet Rosaleen." {E.xit Rody, c.) 

Lights one-half down. When Rosaleen lights candle, turn up lights till end 
of act. 

ACT III. 
Scene I. — Lights all up. 
Scene II. -Lights one-half down. 

Cue. " Damn him ! " 

Lights three-fourths down. 

Cue. " I hope so." 

Lights one-half up when Patrice enters with lamp. 

Cue. " Heaven defend us 1 1 1 " 

Lights three-fourths down quick (very important). 

Ctic. " Return in the morning" 

Lights up one-half when Lawton turns up lamp. 

Ciie. " My eccentric friend." 

Lights all up till end of act. 



SYNOPSIS. 



Act I. Glen Blarney by moonlight. Old-fashioned love-making. The arrival of the 
American. The rescue. The first chapter in an international romance. A story of 
California. Rody and the leprehaun. The story of Rosaleen. The black bird and 
the dove. The blow. Love under the furze-blossoms. The trust. The robbery 
and the murder. The Accusation. 

Act II. Shevaun's shebeen at sunset The May-Day festivities. The Queen o' the 
May. Cuddeen Cassidy falls into the wrong company. The old, old story. Lord 
and peasant. The proposal. The story of the murder. Arrival of the police. The 
parting. The Arrest. 

/ ct III. Blarney Manor. " The darkest hour is that before the dawi." A Calil^on,; , 
i-inic of bluff The murderer and the ghost. The widow's predicamen',. Tli.' 
conspirators. The Bit o' Blarney. Rosaleen's peril. The attempted assassina- 
tion. The tables turned. Squire Rody. 



A BIT O' BLARNEY 



ACT I. 

Scene. — Glen Blarney by moo?iligkt. Full stage. Rocky back. 
Rock ru7i off L. 3 E. Wood and rock wings, r. and l. Set 
tree, R. C. Bushes extending out on stage for three feet R. 
2 E. Grass couch before tree, R. c. Lights down. Music, " Rocky 
7'oad to Dtiblin, O.'^ Music stops as Shevaun and Dakbey 
Darney e?iter R. 2 e. ; each carries a whiskey keg. 

Darbey {grunting^. Ugh ! me legs are thremblin' undher me 
intirely. 

Shevaun. Lave down yer darlin' and rist. {Setting keg, c.) 
Ugh ! {Sits hastily:) 

Darbey. Faix thin, I will that! {Sets keg down l. c.) No! 
{Sets keg c, near Shevaun's.) There ! that's betther. {Seats 
himself. ) 

Shevaun. Ah, Darbey, ye're the divil, dhrunk or sober! 
Well, the boys'U have plinty of whiskey for to dhrink to-morrow. 

Darbey. Thrue for ye. Sure, if they drink all the poteen in 
these kegs, they'll celebrate May Day in fine shtyle be raisin ruc- 
tions. 

Shevaun. Sure, like Christmas, May Day comes but wanst a 
year, and when it comes — 

Darbey {intercepting) . It brings good cheer — whoo ! {Pulls 
his keg up close to Shevaun.) 

Shevaun {with pretended etubarrassment). Darbey, is it 
coortin' me ye are ? 

Darbey. Egorra, maybe I am! Ah, Shevaun acushla, though 
I'm ould, sure me heart is as gay as the tunes of me ould fiddle. 

Shevaun. Faith, I believe ye, Darbey, or you wouldn't be 
sitlin' on top of a keg of the craychure in the glen at this hour o' 
the evenin', settin' yer caubeen for a dacint widdy like meself. 

Dakbey. Shevaun acree, I don't mind telHn' ye betiine our- 
selves here that we'd make a mighty fine pair. Sure, you could 
set the hearts of your cushtomers afire be sellin' a dacint drop of 
the craychure, an' I'd set their sowls ablaze wid the fire of me 
fiddle. 



6 A BIT O BLARNEY. 

Shevaun. Thrue for ye. I niver thought o' that ! Ah, Dar- 
bey. darlin', if it was not for the mimory of ould Jack in his grave 
this blessed night — 

Darbey. Jack is dead— long Ufe to him! Tare an ages, She- 
vaun, sure ye're not goin' to tie your heart-strings forever to a 
tombstone ? 

Shevaun. Before he died, ten long years ago, I tould him that 
I'd be as thrue as a gravestone to his mimory, 

Darbey. Oh, wirra ! Shevaun, sure it's me heart ye're breakin'. 
Bad cess to the ghost of the gravestone that's standing betune me 
and the colleen I love ! 

Shevaun {bashfully). Oh! ye'll make me blush I 

Darbey. Whisper hither a minute, Shevaun. {She tur7is 
towards hnn ; lie snatches a kiss ; 7ioise outside. R.) 

Shevaun {jumping up). Oh! whist! {Looking around.) 
What was that".? 

Darbey {comically sentimental). 'Twas the noise of me heart, 
thryin' to lep out of me mouth. 

Shevaun {looking l. i e). Murdher alive! It's the gauger ! 
He's looking for Murty Moriarty's still. 

Darbey. The divil a gauger! Maybe it's some engagers — 
some boys and their colleens, maybe, eh ? 

Shevaun. Niver mind ; they'd betthcr not see us here wid the 
poteen. 'Twould hurt our kiractors, and maybe Father Murphy 
would make a howly show of us next Sunday from the altar ! 



{Exit Shevaun, caj-rying keg, l. 2 e.) 

Darbey {coming forward, l.). Darlin'! Be the ghost of 
Julius Cassar, I'm in love — wid a widdy — ohone ! 

{He starts to exit, l. i e., wJiejt enter Teddy Burke, l. i e. 
They run into each other and start back.) 

Teddy. Ough 1 Murther and moonlight ! I see stars. 

Darbey. Av coorse ye do! Shure they're raisin' the divil up 
there in the sky. 

Teddy {surprised). What! ould Darbey Darney ! 

Darbey. Voiing Darbev Darney, if ye plaze. Ould indeed! 
Is that Teddy Burke ? 

Teddy. The divil a one else ! Sluire yer whiskey nearly floored 
me ! 

Darbey {setting it down). Faix, it floored many a betther 
man. 

Teddy. Thrue for ye, Darbey! It's as bad as the shillalagh 
in lavin' men stretched out on the broad o' their backs. 

Darbry. What brings ye here at this hour o' the night. 

Teddy. Me two lecfs. 



A BIT O BLARNEY. / 

Darbey. Teddy, acree, don't be jokin' at the expense of a gos- 
soon like meself. 

Teddy. Darbey, they tell me ye're in love wid a widdy — She- 
vaun Jack ! 

Darbey. For the love o' Heaven ! Whist ! She'll hear ye ! 

Teddy. Is she here.? Oh, ye vagabone ! Darbey, ye're the 
divil ! 

Shevaun {outside). Darbey, ohoo ! 

Darbey {taking up keg). Murdher! Me stayin' away is killin' 
her ; shure she can't lave me out of her sight a m'inute. 

Teddy. Darbey, yeVe the divil wid the girls. Sure there is 
not a colleen in the county that wouldn't wear out her brogues and 
walk miles to hear ye play the fiddle. 

Darbey {with comic pride). Oh, I'm a great gossoon intirely ! 

Teddy. Darbey, did ye know that I was going to Amerikay? 

Darbey. Faix, no wonder. Shure yer new master is from that 
great country where they find the bright gold on the streets. Mr. 
Lawton, I mane. Tell me, Teddy acree, why is he here at all ? 
Eh? 

Teddy. Ax me no questions and I'll tell ye no lies. 

Darbey. Mr. Lawton is a — 

Teddy. Whist ! he may hear ye. 

Darbey. Why ! Is he in the glen ? 

Teddy. No ; but I expect him here every minute. He's going 
up to Cork to-night, and he wants to go to Blarney Castle first, 
and bring away a little bit of the Blarney stone wid him. It's a 
quare fancy. I'm to meet him here, and take him to the castle. 

Shevaun {faintly, outside). D-a-r-b-y I 

Darbey {loudly). Yis, darlin'! Well, Teddy, I must go. Be 
sure an' be at the dance at Shevaun's sheebeen to-morrow night, 
and we'll rise the divil out o' the May Day. Oid/ie maith leathel 
(Good-night.) 

Teddy. The top of the evenin' to you, Darbey, and may yer love 
for Shevaun be as strong and lasting as her whiskey ! 

{Exit Darbey, l 2. e.) 

Teddy. Ah, wissha, Darbey Dainey, ye're a caution. If ye 
lived to the age of Methusalem, ye'd never grow a day older than 
ve wor when ye wor a gossoon. Faix, it's time Misther Lawton 
was here. He come all the way from Amerikay to settle the ould 
Rossmore estates. That blaguard o' a squire is in possession 
now, but it takes a Yankee to take the divil be the tail, and make 
him screech blue murdher and brimstone. Ah, there he is now. 

Lav/ton {outside r. i e.). Teddy, ahoy! 

Teddy {looking back r. i e.).' This Avay. Misther Lawton. 
Blarney Castle is only a little v/ays from here. We'll be there in a 
minute. Ye can see it from here be the moonlight. 

Lawton {outside^ r. i e.). Curse this bog-hole! 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 



{Enter Lawton, r. i e.) 

Teddy. Bog-hole ! The divil a bog-hole ye '11 find in a place 
like this. Sure this is Glen Blarney. 

Lawton {looking around). A strange place, and, by jove ! a 
charming place. The home of the Irish fairies, I suppose. Eh? 

Teddy. Faix, sor, if purty colleens and their lads are fairies, it 
is; for sure it's here they meet and make love to aich other. 

Lawton. How romantic ! {A'oise of a horse galloping outside 
R.) Hello! {Looks K.) Teddy, who is that lovely looking creature 
on horseback dashing up the road yonder ^ 

Teddy. I may surprise ye by tellin' ye that she is Rody the 
Rover\s own sister, fine Lady Patrice. She lives with her cousin, 
Squire Rossmore, at the Blarney House. She was brought up 
altogether different from her brother Rody. 

Lawton. What a graceful rider! {Alanned.) Hello! why 
the horse is running away with her ! See ! 

Teddy. Begorra, ye're right ! Yes ! {Starts to go r.) Lave 
me shtop him ! 

Lawton. No ! No I I wouldn't miss this chance for an ad- 
venture for a million. Go along, Teddy. Til join you later. Here 
is a romance ! {Aloud.) Stop! Stop! {Exit 'Lawton quickly, 

R. I E.) 

Teddy {looking after him). Lady Patrice has lost her control, 
and Misther Lawton has lost his head. Sure no wonder. She's 
a beautiful lady, and maybe it"s in love lieUl be after fallin' wid 
her. {Looking R.) What ! {Noise stops.) The horse is stopped ! 
Of course he'd stop it. Good ! Well, he's spakin' to her. And 
the Lord have mercy on him, for his Iieart is in the kishoge of her 
charms already. He's taking her off the horse. Sure she's not 
hurt. Murdher and moonlight ! she's smiling at him ! Here they 
come. He's tying the horse to a stone. I'm off for the Blarney I 
Mister Lawton wants to get a bit of it to take to Amerikay. If he 
keeps on like this, he may be takin' something else back wid him too- 

{Exit L. 2 e. ; enter Lawton and Patrice, r. i e.) 

Lawton {leading her to couch r. c). Won't you be seated? 
You are a trifle pale : but if is all over now. 

Patrice {seating herself on bank). Thank you ; it has passed. 
There ! 

Lawton. I am glad. 

Patrice. May I ask, if it is not an impertinent question, whom 
have I the pleasure of thanking for my fortunate escape ? 

Lawton. Before I can answer you I must know have I had 
the pleasure of saving you from an accident, Lady Patrice ? 

Patrice. Yes. 

Lawton. Rody's sister ? 



A BIT O BLARNEY. g 

Patrice. Yes, Rody is my brother by nature and blood, but 
our environment since cliildhood has been so different that we are 
more hke strangers than brother and sister, 

Lawton (c). I am sorry. 

Patrice. Not more so than I. I hope the day may not be far 
off when Rody, by proper and legal means, may take his position 
as Squire of these demesnes, and his proper place by his sister's 
side. 

Lawton. Rest assured that day is not far off. My name is 
Edward Lawton. I am an American. I have come all the way 
iVoni California. 

Patrice. My uncle, who owned this estate, died in California. 

Lawton. Yes, and he left a will of which I am the sole exec- 
utor. 

Patrice. You ? 

Lawton. Yes. Prior to his death I was his counsel. As I said, 
he left a will, and that will is in my possession even now. {Takes 
out a little black box.) It is in this box. Before he expired, far 
away in that distant land, I sat beside his bed. {'Jakes out will.) 
He affixed his signature to this will, and said, " I want you, Lawton, 
to go to that old land of mine — old, but ever young" — and the 
tears filled his eyes as the memory of the old place came back 
to him. "Go," said he, "and under the shadow of the Blarney 
Castle you'll find a boy — a boy after my own heart — full of smiles 
and sunshine — fond of the air of his native hillsides — iond of the 
dance — the whip — the horses — the hounds — the hunt — fond of 
everything that is dear to the heart of the true Irishman ! Tb.ai 
boy," said the old Squire, "lives there. That boy shall inherit the 
old home of his ancestors ; " and the old man"s eyes lit up with 
pride as he asked for the will. He signed his name — and that 
signature makes your brother, Rody the Rover, lord of this 
estate ! 

Patrice {rising). Heaven be praised! Oh, happiness! {To 
Lawton.) You will pardon my enthusiasm. Like our dried turf, 
our Irish hearts burn quickly. 

Lawton. And warmly. {Puts will in his inside pocket.) 

Patrice. Will you walk with m.e as far as the house? 

Lawton. With pleasure ; but only to the gate. I am going to 
Cork this evening. I intend visiting the Blarney before I go. 

Patrice {going r. 3 e). Do you intend to kiss it? 

Lawton. More. I intend stealing a piece of it so that I may 
be always able to kiss on occasions similar to this. {Takes her 
arm.) 

Patrice. Oh, you must have kissed it already. 

Lawton. No ; the Blarney is contagious, and I must have 
caught it from your brother Rody. {Exeunt R. 3 E.) . 



lO A BIT O BLARNEY. 



{Pause; Mtisic, ^^ Rocky Road to Diiblm."' Enter Rody the 
Rover, l. 3 e.) 

Rody. Well, I'm here. I fell ashleep in ould Shevaun's she- 
been this afthernoon, an' only for the salt ould Shevaim put on 
me face, I'd be ashleep yet, an' miss my little Rosaleen. Bad 
luck to me, I thought I saw a fairy. I thought I was on me 
way here, and while passing by the ould rath* who the divii should 
lep up afore me on the boreen but a htde craychure about 
the size of me small finger. And the two eyes he set on mc ! 
Be the mug of Mathusalem ! I thought I was bewitched ! There 
the little spalpeen stood, looking up at me overright me two eyes 
out. Me little buccho wore a cap like a butther cup, an' a lither 
apron, and (like the Scotchman) the divil a pair of breeches had 
he on at all. Sure he had a nose as red as Cuddeen Cassidy's 
hair, and it stuck out as sharp and pinted as the thorn o' me 
shillalagh. We looked at aich other. The divil a word h€ said 
to me, and, faix, I said the same to him. Afther awhile — " Good- 
mornin'," sez I, be the way of introduction, tho' it- was tlie afternoon. 
"The top of the mornin'," sez he, wid a rich Tipperary brogue. 
His voice! Murdher! I wish I had a photograph of it. "Who 
are ye?" sez I. "The Leprehaun," sez he. "The Leprehaun?" 
sez I again, like that. " Yis," sez he. Faix ! I was surprised. 
" The Leprehaun '^. " sez I again. " The divil a wan else," sez he. 
'• Murdher and turf! Rod}', the Rover, ye're a rich man," sez I ; 
for I knew that if I caught the Leprehaun he'd give me a pot of 
goold to lave him go. " Come here, ye thief of the world," sez I ; 
and with that I made a grab for him. Whish ! What do you 
think, but the little vagabone threw a handful of salt in my eyes. 
"Holy Moses and murdher!" I screeched; and with that I woke 
up, and there was me lady Shevaun throwin' salt in me face, 
thryin' to wake me up. Sure, I wuz layin' undher the table in her 
shebeen, drunk. Ahem! I mane dramin'. "Rody, ye vaga- 
bone," sez I, "ye'd betther be startin' for the glen, or Rosaleen 
will raise the divil wid ye," and wid that I ran out and didn't shtop 
a step till I came here. {Ejiter, Lawton, r. 3 e.) Ah, Misther 
Lawton. 

LawtOxN. Hello! Rody! you here ! 

Rody. Don't ye see I am ; bad luck to me ! 

Lawton. What the deuce brings you here ? 

Rody. Me legs, bad scran to them ! 

Lawton (r.). Rody, I think I can guess, — a charming little 
colleen perhaps ? Eh ?' 

Rody. Faix, ye hit it that time, as the bull said to the butcher. 

Lawton. Tell me about her, is she pretty? 

Rody. Ah, sor, sure she's got a pair of eyes as bright as the 
buckles of me new shoes, and a mouth like a burstin' rose, that 
blarneyizes ye wid its sweetness. 

* Note. — A burying ground for infants who die before baptism. 



A BIT O BLARNEY. II 

Lawton. And her heart — 

RoDY. Her heart ! Faix, it's as warm an' as dear as a noggin 
of Shevaun Jack's whiskey ! And her feet ! Sure she has two of 
the purtiest bits of poetry in shoe leather ye ever set your eyes 
upon. Sure, sor, she's a httle flower that orrew on an Irish hillside 
and wuz brougntup ateing and dhrinking the divil a thing but sweet 
dew and sunlight. 

Lawton. And the name of your flower is — 

RoDY. Rosaleen — manin' a little rose. {Spoken throu(:h 
jmisk.) She is r poor orphan, sor. Her mother died. Sure when 
the black throuble kem upon her, sure I thought Td lose her. Me 
purty flower began to fade — the bright color left its leaves, and 
'twas white they was gettin'for the want of the sunhght. Thehght of 
my heart fell upon it and brought it back to life agin, and now me 
heart is brimmin' over wid happiness, and sure the whole world 
looks smilin' and goolden in the light of our true love. {Stop 
?misic?) 

Lawton. Ah, Rody, I am glad that I'm to be the means of 
completely filling your cup of happiness. 

Rody. Ye mane that will .'^ Then it is for me? I am the 
owner of the Rossmore estates? 

Lawton. That I won't say yet. The contents of that will are 
sacred until I return from Cork next week, whither I am going to 
make my final arrangements toward the settlement of this estate. 
Rody, I'm going to Blarney before I take the nine o'clock train 
for Cork. I want to get a bit of the stone for a curiosity. {Looks 
at watch.^ It is now half-past eight — I'll have time to do it. 
Won't you come as far as the castle with me? 

Rody. Certainly, sor. I can't go far as I'm expectin' Rosaleen. 

{Exeunt l. 3 e.) 

{Pause. Rosaleen is heat'd singing ^'■TJie Groves of Blar7iey " 
outside K. I E. She enters singing the last line.) 

Rosaleen. The Groves of Blarney! Wissha ! may the Lord 
presarve them and keep thim foriver green like the mimory of the 
oulden time, when the castle beyant was in all its glory ! Blarney 
Cas'tle ! The place where all the purtiest things ever whispered 
in the ear of a colleen are stowed away. Ah, may the ould stone 
never grow mossy for the want of a kiss ! Sure there isn't a purtier 
place in the whole world for coortin' than under its kindly shadow. 
An' it's here where I'm to meet my rovin' Rody to-night. My 
Rody ! My Rover ! The finest bit of manhood in the whole of 
Munster, much less the County Cork. 

{Enter Cuddeen Cassidy, l. 2 e.) 

Is that you, Rody ? 

Cudi!)een. No, it isn't that rovin' vagabone, but no less a person 
than Misther Cuddeen Cassidy, a dacint respectable man. 



12 A BIT O BLARNEY. 

RosALEEN. Misther Cassidy is the only man in the county that 
thinks so. 

CuDDEEN. Ye'd better keep a civil tongue in yer head until 
ye're sure you're right. Faith, there is more people in the county 
than meself that thinks so. 

RosALEEN. That's all. They only think so, but they don't 
know. 

CuDDEEN. There's me fine Squire Rossmore, for example, eh? 

RosALEEN (c). A bird of your own kind; but he's got finer 
feathers. 

CuDDEEN. Ye're not paying the Squire any fine compliments, 
Rosaleen, alanna. It isn't for you to say mane things agin the 
Squire — 

RosALEEN {interrupting). Oh, thin I'm saying mane things 
agin the Squire when I'm comparin' him to yerself. I thought 
Misther Cassidy, Esquire {sarcastically^ was a dacint respectable 
gentleman. Eh .? Cuddeen .'' 

CuDDEEN. Ah, Rosaleen, darlin', ye've got the gift of gab, and 
ye're thrying to be sarcasticating wid an old craychure like meself. 
Sure it was a kind mother for ye to have a smart tongue. 

ROSALEEN. Cuddeen ! Shtop ! Nivir agin let me hear that 
tongue of yers spake the name of me poor mother, who is dead in 
her grave this blessed night (Lord have mercy on her soul !). 

Cuddeen. May she rest in pace. I'm sure it wouldn't be for 
the likes o' me to be takin' the dead out of their graves this blessed 
night. 

Rosaleen. Well, Cuddeen — or Misther Cassidy, indeed, if ye 
have anything to say to me I wish ye'd say it, and not keep me 
here talking agin' me will. 

Cuddeen. Oh, the divil a word I have to say at all, at all ! 
{Shrewdly.) Only that Squire Maurice thinks enough of me to 
confide a purty little sacret in my ear. 

Rosaleen. Ye don't tell me so 1 

Cuddeen. Yis, an' sure only for it's a sacret I wouldn't be 
after telling it to ye. 

Rosaleen. Indeed ! An' ye wouldn't tell me only for it's a 
sacret. 

Cuddeen. No. {Drawing near her.) Whisper hither a min- 
ute. No less a gentleman than Squire Maurice himself is in love 
wid ye. 

Rosaleen. Is that so ? We hear ducks ! Sure I thought he 
was in love with Rody's sister, Lady Patrice. 

Cuddeen. Faix, no, she wouldn't give a traneen for his soul 
and body, for she nivir Hked him. 

Rosaleen. An' it's me that he is in love with, eh? 

Cuddeen. Yis ; the apple bloom in yer cheeks, and the light 
o' the sky in yer Irish eyes, and yer purty instep plazes me Squire\s 
fancy, and it's mistress of the Blarney house he'd be makin' ye if 
ye'd only consent to consider — 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 



13 



RosALEEN {interrupting). Stop, ye blaguard ! or Til twist the 
tongue out of yer wicked oald head ! 

{Enter Rody, r. 3 e.) 

RoDY {coming down run aside). The blackbird and the dove ! 
{He listens at c. i?i rear, unobserved.) 

CuDUEEN {to Rosaleen). I see. It's in love wid that divil- 
may-care spalpeen ye are. - That wandering thief of the world that 
niver did a shtroke of a day's work in his life. 

Rosaleen. You mane Rody? 

Cuddeen. Yis, the Rover! The gintleman that never did — 

Rosaleen {interrupting). The gentleman that never chated 
his people out of their money and manes. The gentleman who 
was too honest-hearted to stale, and too good to lie. No! He 
left yer fine Squire Maurice to do that. Rody respected the mim- 
ory of his uncle too much to grab the land even before he was sure 
that the ould Squire was dead. 

Cuddeen. Well, what's the manin' of all this ? 

Rosaleen. It manes that I love Rody, and that I hate his 
cousin, the Squireen ! Ye may tell him from me that rather than 
wear his silks an' satins, in ragged petticoats I'd walk barefooted 
from Cape Clear to the Giant's Causeway ; for I love Rody the 
Rover with all my heart. 

Rody {springing forward, c). And Rody loves Rosaleen with 
his whole heart and soul {clasps her), and would cling to her even 
if the whole world tried to drag her away ! {Chord.) 

Cuddeen (l. ; astonished). Rody! 

Rody. Yis — the rover. {Imitating Cuddeen's voice.) *' That 
wandherin' thief o' the world, that niver did a shtroke o' a day's 
work in his life." 

Cuddeen. When ye spake of the divil, he usually appears. 

Rody. Yis; we were talking about /cz^j to-night. 

Cuddeen. I thought me ears were burnin'. 

Rody. It would be a mighty fine thing for the village if they 
were burned off intirely. And mind ye, if ye don't lave me sight, 
I'll be timpted to burn some other part of ye, and use the top o' 
me shoe for a match, 

Cuddeen. Ye don't hke me, Rody, eh? 

Rody. For a short answer — no. Words are too sweet to 
waste on the likes of ye. 

Cuddeen. Ye're sharp wid yer tongue. 

Rody. I wish to Heaven I was sharper, so that I could cut yer 
company quicker, {Coming forward Q..) Cuddeen Cassidy, take 
a foors advice and lave this spot. 

Cuddeen. Lave this spot, is it ? It should be you that should 
be iii\iin it. Ye're on yer cousin's land. Squire Maurice owns 
this bit o' ground, an' I work for him. 

Rody. Ke won't own it long, with the blessin' o' Heaven. 



T4 A BIT O BLARNEY. 

CiJDDEEN. How do ye know? 

RoDY. Listen, an' I'll tell ye somethin' that'll shrivel up your 
heart like a roasted cockel, and put the goose-flesh on yer sowl. 

RoSALEEN. Out wid it, Rody. 

RoDY (^to Cuddeen). Listen, then. When me uncle died in 
Amerikay, he left a will. 

Cuddeen. Are ye sure o' that? 

Rody. Yis. Do ye know the stranger that arrived in the village 
yesterday from America ? 

Cuddeen. Yis ; Mr. Lawton. What has he got to do wid it ? 

Rody. He was me uncle's lawyer in California. He came over 
wid a will to settle the Irish estates ; and, wid Heaven's help, we'll 
know next week whether the Squireen or meself owns this land. 

Cuddeen (^aside). Whew ! there'll be blood on the moon an' 
music in the wind ! {To Rody.) But tell me, Rody, are ye sure 
that tiie will is favorable to yer good? 

Rody. I mane to make sure. I mane to get that will, and prove 
that I was the boy me uncle loved — a rover like himself. 'Tis to 
me he'd lave the land, and not to the likes of your master. 

Cuddeen. Thim's hard words agin' the Squire. Worse could 
be Sciid agin yerself. 

Rody. What d'ye mane ? 

Cuddeen. That a dacint gossoon niver, unbeknownst to the priest, 
meets a purty colleen in this lonely glen after night. 

Rosaleen. O Rody! 

Rody {stepping c). Tut ! Take that ! {Strikes Cuddeen in 
the face and fells him.) An' if it wasn't for the presence of that 
same colleen, I'd put me hand down yer throat and tear out yer 
black tongue for saying so. 

Rosaleen. O Rody, darlin', lave him alone! It's in jail he'll 
be after puttin' ye. 

Rody. It's there he belongs. {To Cuddeen.) Get up. ye 
slanderous rapscallion, or I'll flail ye alive wid this shillalah that's 
itching to dance a jig on the seat of yer breeches. 

Cuddeen. Ough. murdher — me phizoge ! Sweet,bad luck to ye. 
Believe me, me fine bouchaloge, that blow will cost ye troul'le — 
tliat poultoge will bring the bitterness to yer heart, and blind v.i;: 
tears the bright eyes of that colleen there. Rody, mark my wc'ifl.-, 
that poultoge will be paid back, and wid compound interest. T!ic 
Cassidyshave the black blood in their veins, and they never forgi\e 
an enemy or forget an injury. 

{Exit L. I E.) 

Rody (l., after him). Oh, ho! We hear drakes, as the duck 
said. 

Rosaleen (c). O Rody, darlin'! I'm afraid, wirra ; I have a 
presintiment that his words will come true. 

Rody. Nivir fear, mavourneen. Sure he was talking throir ^; 
his caubeen that time. {Indicating bank R. c.) Sit down, aroon, 



A BIT O' BLARNEY. 1 5 

and don't be superstitious (Rosaleen seats herself R. c.) Su- 
perstition is the great curse of our country, and the sooner we i^et 
rid of it the better. Look at me, for instance, a roving harum- 
scarum son of the ould sod, that doesn't care a divil for peelers or 
goats, egorra, or even Cassidys. No, darhn', cheer up. Keep a 
warm heart in yer bosom, for soon we'll both be happy. {Hfi/sic.) 

Rosaleen. Shake some of those furze blossoms on me, darlin'. 

RODY (^shaking furze-bush ; bus.). Sure I will, mavourneen, fo? 
they're as golden as yer own lovely hair, and as sweet as yer purty 
lips. {Kisses her while blosso)/is are falling.) There's a smack 
o' the Blarney for ye. {Throius himself at her feet.) 

Rosaleen. O Rody ! 

RoDY. Sure, the furze-bush, darhn', is like the life we live, — 
it is purty an' bloomin', but sure the thorns and the throubles are 
on it, as the pig said when he wanted to ate the porcupine. 

Rosaleen. O Rody, sure it's happy I am this night! 

Rody. Ah, aroon, sure, to hear ye say that is sweeter to me 
senses than the scint o' the shamrocks. Tell me agin, Rosaleen, 
that ye love me ! Sure, it sends the drops o' joy into me eyes, 
and me heart seems as if it would burst wid happiness. 

Rosaleen {flinging her arms about his Jieck) . Rody, I love you. 

Rody {joyfully). Ah, acushla, that sentence is sweeter to me 
than the bag-pipes! Sweeter music to me sow! than the harp or 
the fiddle! Ah, light o' me heart, sure 'tis happy ye've made me ! 
Rosaleen, mavourneen, I love ye, too. Sure, yeVe a little angel o' 
love that dropped down from heaven an' made yer home in me 
heart. 

Rosaleen. O Rody, sure it's a poet ye are. 

Rody. The divil a lie for ye, darlin'. {Looking up.) Look at 
the moon up there ; sure, she's laughing at us. An' no wonder ! 
She's been listening to the same ould shtory ever since Adam and 
Eve set the fashion. 

Rosaleen. Ah, Rody, your sweet love was the sunshine that 
drove the clouds from my heart. When me poor mother died, sure 
'twas your love that filled the empty place in my heart, and brought 
me comfort and consolation. 

Rody. An' may it always, darlin'. {Kisses her.) Then 
another smack o' the Blarney for yer purty lips. 

Rosaleen. O Rody, I'm as happy as a little flower when it's 
kissed by the sunlight. 

Rody. Sure, it's small wonder we're happy. Here we are, 
lovin' in the moonlight, and the purty stars winking at_ us over- 
head, and the si 
flinefins: their fragrance 



lUUUllgUL, clllU LUC pui ly SUrtlo vviiiiviii^ civ ^^.^ v. . v,» 

deeping flowers, like the incense at the chapel, are 
agrance at us. {Sings verse from " Molly Bawn^) 



Sure, the purty flowers were made to grow, love, 
And the purty stars were made to shine ; 
And maybe I was made for you, love, 
And maybe you were made for mine. 

{Speaking.) How d'ye like that, me jewel ? 



l6 A BIT O' BLARNEY. 

RosALEEN. Sure, it goes to me heart like a bit o' music. 
Won't you sing a song, Rody, to plaze me? Do ! Sure, yer voice 
is as sweet to me ears as Father Murphy's mass bell. 

Rody {rising). I'll sing for ye, mavourneen. {Gives her his 
stick.) Rest me shillalah, then, agin the tree, an' I'll sing about 
yerself, wid yer lovely hair and shining blue eyes. 

RosALEEN. Ah, Rody, it's Blarney Castle that's botherin' ye. 
Sure, 'tis the Blarney ye're giving me. 

Rody. Faix, no. I'm giving ye "Sweet Rosaleen." {Music; 
sings. Any other song may be substituted.) 

Oh, 1 love a purty colleen ! 

Her name it is sweet Rosaleen, 
And she lives beside the Blarney, where the flowers grow bright; 

Wid golden hair and lovely eyes, 

Reflectin' the light of the skies, 
An' shamin' wid their brightness the stars at night! 

O Rosaleen ! 

Sweet Rosaleen! 
Pulse o' me heart — my Irish queen I 
My lovely little Rosaleen, 

My own Colleen! 

Sure, she's singing in the mornin'. 

When the dew-dhrops are adornin' 
The purty little posies wid the jewels so bright ; 

She's smilin' in the afternoon, 

As sunny as a day in June, 
And laughing in the evening, an' loving at night. 

O Rosaleen ! 

Sweet Rosaleen ! 
Pulse o' my neart — my Irish queen! 
My lovely little Rosaleen, 

My own Colleen ! 

When the stars above are peepin', 

And the little birds are sleepin'. 
It is then that I am thinking of my own Colleen, 

Whose warm heart and sunny smile 

All care and trouble can beguile. 
Sure, there isn't a girl in Munster like sweet Rosaleen! 

(Rosaleen rises.) 

O Rosaleen ! 

{Puts artn around her -waist.) 

Sweet Rosaleen I 
Pulse o' me heart — my Irish queen ! 

{Starts to go. l. 2 e.) 

My lovely little Rosaleen, 

My own Colleen ! 

{Exeunt L. 2 E. ; Rody leaves his stick behind him; enter 
Squire Rossmore, r. 2 e.) 

Squire {looking after ihe7n). Hello ! there she is, the loveliest 
creature in the village, an' with that useless vagrant, that scape- 
grace of the family. By Jove ! she's a wild-flower — as sweet and 



\ BIT O BLARNEY. 1 7 

beautiful as a rose on an Irish hillside. I should like to put that 
wild-flower near my heart. Ah, well, one can do many things if 
they but try. {Looks around.) It is quiet here. This glen'is a 
charming old spot. It would transform a jackass into a poet. 
(^Lighting his cigar.) With a quietude like this, one can't help 
thinking. (^Throwing Jiii?iself on bank.) I wonder what the devil 
that mysterious American is doing in this village. He seems to be 
an interesting sort of a chap. I might invite him to supper at the 
Blarney House, but these Americans are so deucedly Democratic 
in their ideas that they cannot comprehend the conception of class 
and quality. {Hears noise.) Hello ! {Loudly j looking l. i e.) 
Who's there ? 

{Enter Cuddeen, l. i e.) 

CUDDEEN. Only yer shadow in the person of meself. 

Squire. Oh ! Cassidy; come here. I wish to speak with you. 
(Cassidy crosses to r.) Cassidy, the villagers say that you know 
everything. 

Cuddeen. I have that character, sor, — thanks to yer cousin 
Rody for it. 

Squire. I'll put your powers to the proof Can you tell me who 
is that American who frequents the village at present? 

Cuddeen. Ye mane the man that tuk Teddy Burke for his 
servant ? 

Squire. Yes. 

Cuddeen. That's a Misther Lawton, and he came from Amer- 
ikay out in CaUfornia. They say that he was the ould Squire's 
lawyer out there. 

^Cl\5\\\^ {siLr prised). My uncle's ? Eh? 

Cuddeen. Yis. They do be saying that yer uncle left a will 
when he died. This man manes to prove, I think, that your cousin 
Rody is the thrue heir to this property. 

Squire {risi?tg). What ! Are you sure of that ? 

Cuddeen. I have Rody's own word for it. 

Squire. You are sure, you say? 

Cuddeen. For certain ; as sure as me name is Cuddeen Cassidy. 

Squire. Rody, my cousin, must never get that will. 

Cuddeen. Faix, he says that he manes to get it. 

Squire {crossing to l. c. front). But I say that he shall not. 

Cuddeen {crossitig to c). Good ! More power to your resolves ! 

Squire. Where is this American to be found? 

Cuddeen. He's stopping at Father Murphy's. I heard Father 
Murphy's sister say that he was going to Cork to-night, and that 
he'd be back agin next week. 

Squire. I might invite him to the Blarney House. Cassidy, you 
are a connoisseur on mixed drinks — you might fix some wine for 
him. 

Cuddeen {aside) . Ye vagabone ! 

Squire. No ; on second thought, 'twere best I should not see him. 



1 8 A BIT O' BLARNEY. 

CuDDEEN. Ye mane for me to see him, eh ? Are ye to consider 
yerself a monkey, and Cuddeen Cassidy a cat wid a quick paw ? 
{Cf'osses to R.) Oh, no, no ! 

Squire {crosses to c). Cassidy, your mother is dying in the 
poorhouse. 

Cuddeen. Yis — more shame to me for it ! 

Squire. At what do you value her life? 

Cuddeen. Value it ? It's above pricin'. 

Squire. Not at all. That will. Would you like to extricate 
your mother and yourself from the grasp of poverty "i 

Cuddeen {gettmg excited). What ! Do you mane it ? 

Squire. Yes. 

Cuddeen (^excitedly'). You'll take me poor moilier out of the 
poorhouse? You'll do that? You'll give her plenty to ate and 
drink ? You'll do all that? Do, and Til go through fire for ye ! Til 
do anything ! Look ! Me hands are strong ! Me muscles are as 
firm as steel! The fire of despair is in me heart! O Squire, 
agra, you'll save me mother from a pauper's grave? Do that, an' 
ril see that Rody'll never get that will. I'll bring it \o yon — to 
you. ril stale — rob — kill — no! no! not murdher. Me hands 
would be red wid blood, and I could never stretch them out to wel- 
come me old mother back. 

Squire, I'll do it all! On my honor! 

Cudd-een. Honor? Whist! If ye had any ye wouldn't be try- 
ing to chate yer own cousin out o' his birthright. 

Squire. Cassidy ! 

Cuddeen. I ax yer pardon. But never fear, I'll keep me word. 
I'll get that will. An' listen: if ye go back on yer word — mind ye, 
now, you'll curse the mother and father that brought you to this 
world— this world tliat has no heart or sowl. {^Noise heard.) 

Squire. Hush! What's that? 

Cuddeen {listening). What? 

Squire {looking l.). Somebody coming down the road from the 
castle. 

Cuddeen (rrossing to l.). Whist! Look! It's Mr. Lawton, 
the Americnn, and Teddy Burke ; they've been at tlic Blarney 
Castle. 

Squire. Then I'm off. Good-night. {Starting to go R. 3 e ) 

Cuddeen. Is it laving me alone ye are? {Aside.) The 
co-.vard ! {Aloud.) Nivir fear; Cuddeen Cassidy is no coward. 
He will get that will, even if it was hidden behind the altar in 
Frither Murphy's chapel. 

Squire. If you get it, hide it for a few days ; then bring it to 
me. Good-night. {Exit Squire, r. 3 e.) 

Cuddeen. If I get it, I'll keep it until the robberv blows over, 
like a nine days' wonder. When the promise is marie good, then 
the Squire may have it and welcome. Whist! They're coming 
this way. I'll hide behind the rock here. {Exit, R. 2 k.) 



A BIT O BLARNEY. IQ 



{Enter 'LA\NTOii, followed by Teddy Burke, l. 3 e.) 

Lawton. You need not come any farther, Teddy. Well, Blar- 
ney Castle is certainly interesting. Oh, you Irish people are so 
fond of moss-covered traditions. By jingo! Your imagination is 
the strongest part of you. 

Teddy. Our only fault, sor, is that our hearts are bigger than 
our heads. 

Lawton. In our country we change all that ; we pay more 
attention to the head. 

Teddy. At the expense of the heart, sor — I'm sorry. 

Lawton. Oh, we develop both equally. You see that gives us 
a moral equilibrium. 

Teddy. I niver saw one, sor. 

Lawton {lauirhiiio) . I see, Teddy, you don't quite comprehend. 
{Lookino at watch.) But I must go. I have just three minutes 
to catch the Cork train. 

Teddy. The station isn't a minute's walk, sor. Cut across the 
Squire's field, there. {Points R.) 

Lawton. The Squire's .? 

Teddy. I mane Squire Rody's field. 

Lawton. Now you speak the truth. Here, Teddy, you had 
better take this box and bring it back to Father Murphy's. {Gives 
box.) I would not lose what it contains for the world. It is 
priceless. 7^ake good care of it. 

Teddy. Oh, niver fear, sor. I'll guard it as if it were me own 
life. 

{Re-entc?-, partially, Cuddeen.) 

Cuddeen {aside). It's in that box. Fll get it or die. {Exit.) 

Lawton {aside). I've gqj: the will in my pocket ; only a bit of 
the Blarney stone is in t!:c box. It is just as well to let Teddy 
think that it contains the will. He will guard it better. {Aloud.) 
Teddy, I am making you custodian of that box to test your good 
qualities. If you prove trustworthy, I'll take you back to Amer- 
ica with me. 

Teddy. Oh, niver fear, sor ; this box is as safe as if St. Patrick 
himself had his two fingers on it. 

Lawton. Now I must start for the train. 

Teddy. Begorra, like a sneeze, it won't wait. 

Lawton. Good-by, Teddy; I'll be back in a week. You left 
my luggage at the station? 

Teddy. Yis, sor. 

Lawton. And remember — take good care of that box until I 
return. An, revoirl 

{Exit Lawton, r. 3 e ; g?'adually lower lights until it is quite 

dark.) 



20 A BIT O BLARNEY. 

Teddy. Over the water, sor. {Aside.) Ah, I have Rody's 
happiness too much to lieart to lave anything happen to this box. 
Ah, that's a thrue American gintleman. He shpped a half crown 
into me hand jist now for no other reason than that I risked the 
crown of me head in tryin' to knock off a bit o' the famous Blarney 
stone beyant, whilst he held me be the two legs. He took it to 
Cork wid him, and Hke a gintleman he laves me to take care o' the 
box wid the Vvill. {Dra?natic t/msic till the end of act. Re-enter 
CUDDEEN unobserved; he stealthily crawls up beJiind Teddy 
and gets possession ^'Rody's stick, which is lying 07i bank R. c.) 
Well, he won't be sorry, for I'll guard it wid me hfe. The moon 
is getting clouded; it'll be dark soon. I'd better be startin' back 
wid me little box. Whew ! It's dark. {By this time Cuddeen has 
crossed to l, in front ; Teddy sees him and sta?'ts back. Chord.) 
The Lord betune us an' all harm ! Who's that 1 

Cuddeen {with determifiatioji) . Give up that box. Give it 
up, I'm tellin' ye. 

Teddy. Go to the divil! Faith, I believe ye are the divil. 
{Boldly.) Who are ye ? 

Cuddeen. A despairin' man that wants that box. 

Teddy {chdching box tighter) . He'll niver git it while Teddy 
Burke has his hands on it. 

Cuddeen {striking him with stick). Take that, an' see if it 
will waken your hould any. 

Teddy. Oh, help! help! Mr. Lawton ! Police! 

Cuddeen. The police are target shootin' to-day, and haven't 
come back yet. Give me that box ! 

Teddy. Murther ! Thieves ! Help ! Help ! 

Cuddeen {grasping him by the throat). Hould yer tongue, bad 
cess to ye ! ( Strikes him o?t head.) There ! That may convince 
ye that I'm the strongest. 

Teddy. Ye coward ! 

Cuddeen. There — and there ! {Strikes him twice.) 

Teddy. Murther ! I'm kilt, oh I 

{The moo7i comes ont ; lights half up.) 

Teddy {recognising him) . Cuddeen Cassidy ! 

Cuddeen. Whist! 

Teddy. Ye robber ! 

Cuddeen. Ye lie! {Strikes hiin again.) There! (Teddy 
falls c.) That may silence ye. 

T^x^QY {on ground). Murdherer! Ugh! God in heaven ; Oh! 
(Teddy falls back dead, box still clutcJied in his arms ; have salt 
ready, rear, c.) 

Cuddeen. No, not murdherer ! Whist ! Wake up ! Ye're not 
dead ! Look at me ! {Listens to heart.) Ah ! it's stopped ! The 
could feeling is stalin' on. God alive, he's dead — dead ! {Owl hoots 
outside.) Whist! Some one's comin'. {Listens.) No, it's the 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 21 

hootin' o' the owls, or maybe the banshee. The red mark o' Cain 
is burnin' me forehead, I'm a murdherer. {Looks at Teddy.) 
No ! No ! Ah, yer eyes are open ! (^Lifting him up.) YeVe 
not dead ! I'm no murdherer ! Don't look at me like that ! Your 
eyes are wide open ! {Starts back Iwirijied.') Howly Mother in 
heaven ! The light o' life has left them. It's the could stare o' the 
corpse that's accusing me o' murther ! I've kilt him ! Yes — yes — 
for what? The box — ah, yes, the box! {Takes it from corpse.) 
I have it. Here it is. I've paid dearly for it. It must be worth 
the price. Ah, shut yer eyes! You'll drive me mad — nrul ! 
(RoDY is heard singing in distance faintly " TJie pretty girl 
milki>i'j[ her cow''' During singing Cuddeen speaks spasj?todically 
and continues scene. As the singing draws nearer., drums are 
heard beating in the distance.) What's th.it — the banshee singing 
the death-song? {To body.) I must hide ye where nobody'll find 
ye till I'm far away. {Takes up body aiid drags it along.) The 
furze-bushes! No, the water! The Shannon'll hide me crime! 
Ugh ! How heavy ye are ! Made o' lead. Ugh ! {Drums iicaid 
louder.) What's that? My God I The police returning from the 
target shooting! I'm lost! lost! There I Ah! {Throws body 
into water ; throw up salt as body falls behind ground row.) Sleep 
there! Your white lips are dumb! You'll never accuse me of 
murther! The box ! {Picks it up.) I've got it! I must hide it! 
What's this? The stick! {Picks it up.) It's Rody the Rover's ! 
He's coming for it! He won't get it! {Throws it behind the 
rock.) Ah, 'tis proof! Rody's the murdherer! I'm free — free! 
{Goes up stage laughing hysterically and wildly ; warn curtain.) 

{Enter Rody, l. i e., singing last line, " The purty girl milking 
her cow.''"' Cuddeen crouches up stage arid watches him.) 

R(^DY. Faith, I lost me blackthorn ! Sure, it's my shadow; I 
must find it. {Looks around; listens.) The drums ! The police 
are coming back from the target shooting. Maybe I left it up here. 
{Goes up stage and looks around on ground for stick.) 

{Enter Captain Castleton and police marching, r. i e.) 

Captain Castleton. Halt! {They do so. He notices Rody's 
figure.) What's that? {To police.) Be ready! A smuggler! 
Take aim. 

Rody {rising up c). Hold, for the love o' Heayen ! 

Castleton. Who are you? Answer! 

Cuddeen. He's a smuggler and a murdherer ! 

Rody. It's a lie. I'm a dacint boy, an' me name is Rody the 
Rover. 

{Tableau ; light fidl up.) 
CURTAIN. 



22 A BIT O BLARNEY. 



ACT II. 



Scene. — Shevaun's shebeen at sunset. Entrances c. and r. 3 e. ; 
window m flat -, fireplace, R. 2 e. ; tables r. c. and L. c. Peas- 
ants seated around table k. at curtain rise. D arbey Darney at 
table L. with fiddle. Rody at table R., singing " Cruiskeen Lawn.'''' 

RoDY {singing). 

Let the farmer praise his grounds, 
* As the huntsman does his hounds, 

And the shepherd his dew-scented lawn, 
While I, more blessed than they, 
Sing each happy night and day {Curtain.) 
With my smiling little Cruiskeen Lawn. 

{Chorus of Peasants.) 

Gra machree, ma cruiskeen, 

Slanta Gal mavourneen, 

Gra machra ma Cruiskeen Lawn, Lawn, Lawn. 

Agus gra ma Colleen Bawn. 

{Efiter Shevaun, r. 3 e.) 

Shevaun. Be aisy wid yer singin^ ; it's the peelers ye'll be 
afther bringing down on me head this blessed day for selling an 
honest dhrop of the craychure. 

RoDY. Niver fear, Shevaun, darlint ; the divil a policeman'll 
trouble this whiskey — faith, it's strong enough to take care of it- 
self. Here's to your health, Shevaun, and may you live till you die ; 
and shure, when you do die, may you be tin days in heaven before 
the divil reads of your death in the London Times. 

Shevaun. Ah, wirra, be aisy ! * 

Rody. Aroo, what harm is there in takin' a dhrop of poteen? 
Sure, boys, it sends the blood dancin' through our veins, and hghts 
the fire o' fun in our hearts, and gives us courage to say, — 

{Sings.) 

When grim death appears. 

After few but happy years. 

To tell me that me race has run, 

I say, begone ye knave — 

Sure our breeches gave me lave 

For to have another Cruiskeen Lawn. 

{Chorus of Peasants^ 

Omnes. Hurroo ! Iss inogh e shift. Ah, ha, wisha. {All 
drink.) Slanta leath Rody na Rover. 

'Rody. Now, boys, a health to Shevaun, and may she always 
be as lively and shtrong as her whiskey. {All drink.) 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 23 

Shevaun {going to table r.). Faith, Pll taste a dhroD meself 
to warm the cockles o' me ould Ijeart. {Takes glass.) A health to 
the purtiest colleen that iver danced in shoeleather. She was 
crowned by the boys and girls this blessed May Day Queen o' the 
May — Rosaleen. 

{Oitmes drink and scatter around.) 

Darbey Darney {rising). Sure, me ould fiddle '11 go to ruin 
for want o' scrapin', if the colleens don't hurry back from the 
chapel. {Loud laughter outside.) 

Shevaun {going to d. c.)- Whist! Here they are as frisky as 
lambs in the springtime. {Lively music; enter Rosaleen, fol- 
lowed by skirls, c.) 

RoDY.' Ccad mille failthe to the whole of ye! {Taking Rosa- 
leen by the hand.) Come, Rosaleen, acushla, 1 want ye to help 
me knock the sparks out o' the floor with a rale ould Irish break- 
down. 

Shevaun. Rody, ye're the divil ! 

RoDY. Whoo! 

Rosaleen. Come, girls, we'll give the May Day an Irish good- 
night. 

Rody. Darbey, ye divil, get upon the table there, an' put the 
resin to your bow. Whoo ! {Helps Darbey upon the table.) 

Darbey {crawling upon the table). Ah, thin, whin I was a 
o-ossoon in the ould times o' '48 there wasn't a colleen in the 
country could hould a foot wid me. {Sadly.) But I'm gettin' 
ould now. 

Rody. The divil a bit ! The age is only on yer hair, Darbey; 
the youth is still in yer heart. 

Darbey. Yes, begorra, and in me legs too ? {Dances on table, 
stops suddenly.) Ough ! The rumatizm is risin' the divil with 
me intirely. '{Seats Jnmself in chatr on table,) Niver mind a 
bouchaloge. Til knock the fire out o' me fiddle. {Flays lively 

Rody. Come, boys and girls! {They square off for a dance.) 
I'd twirl me shillalah wid ve, but I lost it somewhere last night. 
Whoo, ye divils, ye! {Irish country dance, specialties; songs 
and dances.) 

Omnes. Hurroo! Bravo! Hurroo! Ah, ah! 

Shevaun. Shure, it's the happy set ye're all ! Sure, I wish me- 
self were young agin. 

Dakbey {firing away fiddle and leaping from table). Ah, ta-x, 
we're all young agin. Come, Shevaun, and we'll show the gaffers 
a dance in a rale o'uld shtyle. {Music comic ; dance between She- 
vaun and Darbey.) • • , u 

Dakbey {stopping suddenly). Ah, the rumatizm is risin the 
divil wid me intirely! 



24 A BIT O BLARNEY. 



(^Enter Cuddeen Cassidy, c. door.) 

CuDDEEN {at door) . God save all here ! {Seeing RoiJY, l.) 
Barrin' that vagabone there. {Comes m c.) 

RODY. The divil shoot ye ! {To Shevaun, R.) Shevaun, did 
ye want to become a blessed saint? 

Shevaun. Heaven save us — how.'' 

RODY. By banishing that snake there. Maybe yt 11 prove yer- 
self a second St. Patrick. 

Cuddeen (c). Ah, Shevaun darn't tell me not to darken her 
door. She knows me too well, an', besides, she sells a dhrop o' 
the whiskey on the sly, an' it's nobody knows it better than Cud- 
deen Cassidy. 

Shevaun {seeing to fireplace, R.). Murdher, the kittle is boiling 
over ! 

Cuddeen. She darsn't turn me from her door, ye see. 

Shevaun {at fireplace). Ah, a brass pinny 'd make me scald ye 
wid the kittle and make black tay out o' ye. 

RODY. What ! An' pizen the- whole o' us ? 

Darbey. Put him out in the pigsty with the banives, bad luck 
to him ! 

Cuddeen. Keep your pusoge to yer fiddle, ye omadhaun ! 

Darbey. Murdher ! {Starts for Jiijn ; Rody /lolds him back.) 

RODY. Hould, Darbey — don't dirty yer hands wid him. 

Shevaun {crossi7ig to l.). Darbey, be aisy. {Riibbijig her sooty 
hands over his' cheeks.) Sure, I love you. 

Darbey. Sure, you'll make me blush ; begorra, me cheeks are 
red now. 

Cuddeen. An' as for ye, Rody the Rover, ye'd better be afther 
buying yer passage for Amerikay to save yer neck from the rope. 

Rody. What) 

Cuddeen. It's the truth I'm tellin' ye. Teddy Burke was mur- 
dhered in the glen last night. 

Omnes. What! 

Cuddeen Yes ; and his body thrown into the Shannon. It 
was found jist now at the foot of Shlieve Bwee. Teddy Burke 
kept the will o' the Rossmore estate for Mr. Lawton, the Amer- 
ican. 

Rody. Well ! 

Cuddeen, Well, it's gone, and you, Rody the Rover, were in the 
glen last night. {Starts up stage.) 

Rody {wildly). Murdher and turf! Lave me at him! Ye 
vagabone ! {Seizes Cuddeen, and throws him out of window. 
Crash outside.) Get out there wid the pigs, where ye belong ! {All 
laugh.) 

Shevaun. Howly murdher! It's the peelers he'll be afther 
bringin' down on our heads. 

Rody {comingdowji stage r.). Bad manners to him ! {To She- 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 2$ 

VAUN.) Shevaun, give me a dhrop o' water to wash me hands 
afther handling the spalpeen. {Takes off coat ^ 

Shevaun {going to cupboard l.). Here's some in the basin. 
{Pours out water and lays dish on table R.) There ye are. (She- 
vaun looks out of window^ Murdher ! The pig's tore the sate of 
his breeches. (Rody washes his hands, then drys them with towel.) 

ROSALEEN {at door., looking l.). Oh, the bonfires are lit, an' the 
pipes are playin\ and the lads and their colleens are dancin' on the 
green. (Cassidy pokes his dirty face in the window, Rody 
throws out water and douses him.) 

CUDDEEN. Ough ! Iviurdher ! {Disappears.) 

{Omnes laugh.) 

Rody. Faith, he needed a dacint washing. It's a long time 
since he had one.. But come, boys, the bonfires are blazing, and 
we must put a carousin' cap on the May Day. 

RoSALEEN. G'long wid ye ! I'll follow ye whin I put Shevaun's 
shawl around me. 

Rody. Begorra, Rosaleen, Til stay till yer heart bids me go. 

Shevaun. Wait for her. 

{Exeunt Darbey, Shevaun, and Peasants, c. d.) 

Rody. How the divil could I lave ye, Rosaleen? The May- 
flowers are blooming to-day. Sure, darlint, they're jealous of yer 
purty cheeks and bright eyes, an' they're ashamed to show their 
heads, for you're the queen o' the May Day, and sure I love ye. 

Rosaleen {jnusic). Sure, ye've tould me that same ould story 
over and over agin {sad music)., but sure it makes me happy {sadly), 
so happy. 

Rody. Ah, Rosaleen, you're sad agin. Like ould Erin, sure 
you're sad when you're cheerful, and. ye smile wid the tears in yer 
eyes. 

Rosaleen. Ah, Rody, darlint, many the time when the tears 
were in me eyes, and the black throuble on me mind, have I smiled 
to make you happy. 

Rody. Ye have. {Kisses her.) God bless ye, mavourneen ! 
(Rosaleen sobs.) There, don't cry, darlint ! Sure, it will make 
your nose red. Tell me, acnshln, vhnt ye're thinking of. Sure, 
I'll lift the weight off your heart, just as I lifted Cassidy out of the 
window. 

Rosaleen. I was thinking, Rody, of what Cassidy said. I was 
wondering if he wuz telling the truth about Teddy Burke being 
murdered. 

Rody. Niver fear, darlin', 'twas a great lie intirely. Sure, Cas- 
sidy never spoke a word o' truth in his live-long life. 

Rosaleen. He's thrying to pay ye back, Rody, for the pol- 
togue ye gave him in the glen last night. Sure, it's the fear that's 
in me heart that you'll get in throuble for it yet. 



26 A BIT O' BLARNEY. 

'KortY {petting her) . There — there, asthore machree ! It's the 
superstition tliat's coming over ye agin. Kiss me, and forget all 
about it. {Kiss.) 

RosALEEN. Oh, be off wid ye ! Sure, yeVe setting me poor heart 
upside down intirely. Ye'd better run off to the bonfire. Til be 
after ye in a minute, when I get the shawl. 

RoDY. All right, mavourneen. {Goes to door, c. ; aside.) Sure, 
she's the purtiest posy that a gossoon could wear near his heart, my 
sweet Rosaleen. 

{Exit c. door.) 

Rosaleen. It's gettin' dark. I'd better light the penny candle. 
{Does so.) May no harm come to my Rody. I'll pray to my 
mother at home {looks up reverently) to guard him from all danger. 
{Going R. 3 E.) I'll kneel down be Shevaun's bed an' pray that 
he'll be safe from all sorrow this blessed night. 

{Exit R. 3 E. ; stop ?misic. Enter Squire Rossmore, c. door.) 

Squire. God save all — hello, deserted! {Coming down c.) 
I see all the villagers at the dance. I have just come from the 
cross-roads, and could not find Cassidy at the merry-making, the 
scoundrel ! I did not dream that he would be capable of murder. 
Burke's body has just been found, washed up at the foot of Slieve 
Bwee, and Cassidy must have disappeared. I learned at the dance 
that he was seen to enter here a little while ago. No doubt the 
idiot is drunk. I must find him before his tongue has been loos- 
ened with alcohol. {Starts up stage and encounters Rosaleen, 
who enters R. 3 e., putting on shawl.) Ah, Rosaleen, not at the 
dance, eh? 

Rosaleen. Miss O'Connor, sor, if ye plaze. 

Squire {laughing). Oh,. then, Miss O'Connor. I see you 
are proud of your name. 

Rosaleen. An O'Connor, sor, was the last King of Ireland. 
Squire Rossmore, ye are talking to another O'Connor. 

Squire {aside). Gad, she's spirited! {Aloud.) Quite true. 
Your pardon, Miss O'Connor. Realizing this fact, I have come to 
offer you an honorable alliance, worthy of your gentle self. 

Rosaleen. Sure, ye flatter me. 

Squire. 'Pon my honor, no; the statement of a fact is not 
flattery. Rosaleen, I — 

Rosaleen. Squire Rossmore, there is only one boy in the 
whole o' the county o' Cork that can call me Rosaleen in that lov- 
ing way, and that boy is no less a person than your cousin Rody. 

Squire. A mere vagrant. 

Rosaleen. Stop, Squire ! Rody thinks that it is better to be a 
rover, with the dogs and the children romping at his feet, and his 
heart full of love an' happiness, than to be a fine gintleman like 
yerself, with a pocketful of money and hated by all. 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 2/ 

Squire. Indeed! Very bad philosophy. Why, he's a mere 
beggar. 

RosALEEN. Rody the Rover is no beggar; he never begged a 
farthin' from ye in his life, and I know rather than do it he'd lay 
down on the flat of his back and die of starvation. 

Squire. Bombastic bosh ! 

RosALEEN. Ah, ye may say so, but I know he'd rather be a 
beggar, and spend his last farthin' like a king, than be a king, and 
spend his last farthin' like a beggar. 

Squire. Come, come, Rosaleen, those words don't quite fit 
those pretty red lips of yours. {Attempts to kiss her-, enter Pa- 
trice, c. door.) 

Patrice. Cousin Maurice ! {He starts back.) For shame ! 

Squire. Patrice ! A strange place for you. 

Patrice. No better place, surely, than under a roof where 
virtue dwells. (O'osses to Rosaleen.) 

Squire. I must take my leave, to escape from those foolish and 
unpleasant platitudes. Good-morning, Miss O'Connor. A merry 
May Day to you. {To Patrice.) I shall wait outside for you, 
cousin Patrice. 

Patrice. There is hardly a necessity. My brother Rody will 
escort me home. {Exit Squire, d. c.) Tell me, Rosaleen,''what 
he said to you. 

Rosaleen. He proposed to me very much after the style fine 
gintlemen propose to poor colleens who are below them in life. 

Patrice. You did not listen to him, did you? 

Rosaleen. Faix, Lady Patrice, what more could a poor colleen 
do? Me ears hstened to him, but, sure, me heart all the time was 
only listening to the love of — of — {Hesitates bashpilly.) 

Patrice. Of my brother Rody? 

Rosaleen. Yis ; for sure I'll not hide it — it's no shame. I 
love him ! 

Patrice. You're honest, Rosaleen. You are right — to love is 
no crime. Artificial society makes us ashamed of our love, but 
when you want to find human nature you must go among the iX)or 
and lowly. 

Rosaleen. True for ye, lady. 

Patrice. Rody'll be rich soon, Rosaleen. 

Rosaleen. Sure, I hope whin he is that he'll not be ashamed 
o' the poor colleen that gave him her heart's love when his coat 
was ragged and he did'nt have a ha' penny to buy a penny bun. 

Pa-i^rice. If he did that, he would be unworthy of you, Rosa- 
leen. No matter how great one becomes, love makes us all the 
same. Love is a Democrat that levels all. 

Rosaleen. Democrat! Sure, I heard Misther Lawton, the 
American, say that every Irishman, whin he goes to Amerikay, be- 
comes a Democrat. 

Patrice. There is an element of truth in that assertion. 

Rosaleen. Oh, then, all Irishmen fall in love whin they be- 
comes Democrats. 



28 A BIT O BLARNEY. 

Patrice. With their party — yes; but really, Rosaleen, Pm at 
sea on American politics. I always thought that Democracy and 
Republicanism meant the same, but in America they think difter- 
ently. Well, Rosaleen, both of you have a beautiful future before 
you, and not a cloud seems to mar the sunlit horizon of your lives. 

{E7iter Squire, c. d.) 

Squire. I am waiting. 

Patrice. So am I, cousin, .for my brother. 

Rosaleen. Step into the room, Lady Patrice, and PU have 
Rody here in a minute. {Goes r. 3 e.) 

Patrice. I will. {Exit r. 3 e.) 

Rosaleen. If you'll be afther excusin' me, Squire, I must find 
Rody, as Lady Patrice wants to see him. 

Squire. Rody ! Miss O'Connor, are you aware of the fact 
that Rody is under suspicion of murder? 

Rosaleen {shrieks). Oh — murder ! 

Squire. Yes ; Teddy Burke was found dead in the Shannon at 
the foot of Slieve Bwee over an hour ago. It seems that Rody 
was with him in Glen Blarney last night. 

RosA!>EKN. Yes, he was wid me ; but what has that got to do 
wid murdher? 

Squire. It seems he was there alone afterwards. 

Rosaleen. Oh, surely. Squire, they don't think — 

Squire. That Rody committed the murder, eh .? That is pre- 
cisely what they do think. 

Rosaleen. ' Oh ! 

Squire. Rody is under suspicion, and, if I am not mistaken, 
the police are now on their way here to arrest him. 

Rosaleen {staggeriiigb ackivards., half dazed). What! Arrest 
Rody — my Rody — for murdher! Oh, no no, no. Squire, it's a 
black lie ! Sure, I was wid him in the glen last night, and we left 
there together. 

Squire. It is supposed that he murdered the American's ser- 
vant, and robbed him of a box that contained a will which he 
thought would prove him to be the heir to my property. 

Rosaleen. Oh, sure, Squire, it's a lie! My Rody niver could 
do sich a thing! 

Squire. It seems that he declared to my man Cassidy last 
night in your presence that he meant to get possession of that will. 
Well, the holder of that will has been found dead He was mur- 
dered in the glen, and flung into the Shannon. Rody's stick, cov- 
ered with blood, was found in the glen just now. 

Rosaleen. O Squire, I can'funderstand it at all! Me head 
is burnin' — I'll go mad ! — mad ! 

Squire. The circumstantial evidence is rather damaging, and I 
am afraid Rody will find it difficult to prove his innocence. 

Rosaleen. Oh, what is to be done ? How can I help him ? 



A BIT O BLARNEY. ^ 20 

O Squire Rossmore, sure, it's the powerful gintleman ye arc. 
Maybe it's yerself that could help him. Oh, pity me, do — do 
(^kneels), an' Heaven'll bless ye for it. 

Squire. Listen. I will make a bargain with you. I am rich 
and powerful, as you say. I will send Rody to America. 

ROSALEEN (joyfully'). Oh ! 

Squire. I have a steam-yacht at Barehaven. If he can reach 
the coast, he may board that yacht and cross the channel to 
France. From there he can take the French Hne steamer to 
America. 

RosALEEN (Joyfully). An' I will sail away wid him over the 
blue wathers. 

Squire {after going R. 3 e., 7'eturns). No. 

RoSALEEN. No ? 

Squire. You must remain behind, and adorn my mansion with 
your lovely presence. 

RosALEEN. O Squire — 

Squire. Rosaleen, can't you understand? Come to my home, 
and jewels shall sparkle on that exquisite throat and bosom. Silks 
shall rustle where those ragged garments now hang. Why, you'll 
be the richest lady in the county — envied by all. 

Rosaleen (r., sadly). Stop! Stop! Envied by all! Sure, 
I'd rather be loved than envied. Sure, what would the likes o' 
me be doin' wid silks and jewels? No, no, Squire, I'd rather be 
the poorest colleen in the county, wearin' tattered dresses, an' 
have little wild-flowers instead of jewels, an' have a clean con- 
science, than be the fine misthress o' the Blarney House, wid 
Squire Rossmore for me masther. 

(^Music till ejtd of act.) 

Squire. Say, rather, your slave, Rosaleen. (Sta?'ts to kiss 
he?'.) 

Rosaleen. Oh ! (^Starts back l.) 

{Enter Corkerry, c. d. ; he makes a straight walk down c, 
then tttrns abruptly and 7?tarches r.) 

Corkerry {loudly). Hit's hall right, Capt'n. Hit's only the 
Squire an' a bloomin' pretty lass. 

(CuDDEEN Cassidy appears at window in fat.) 

Squire {surprised) . Cassidy ! You here ? 

Cuddeen {aside to Squire). Whist ! For the love o' Heaven 
be aisy ! {Aloud.) It's the police I have here, to arrest themurd- 
herer o' Teddy Burke. 

Rosaleen (l.). Oh I {Aside.) I must run and tell Rody to 
take to the hills. 



30 A BIT O BLARNEY. 



{Enter Patrice, r. 3 e.) 

Patrice {surprised). What's this? 

RosALEEN. O Lad}^ Patrice, it's your brother that's in trouble 
this blessed night ! Oh, I must tell him ! {She starts for D. c, and 
is stopped by entrance of Captain Castleton and two policemen.) 

Castleton. Not so fast, my ,c;irl. First tell us where we can 
find your friend — Rody, commonly called the Rover. 

Rosaleen. O Captain, agrah, ye don't mane to take him away 
from me ? Ye're not going to put the irons on his hands ? Oh, sure, 
it's breakin' me heart ye'll be, for I love him. Sure, he's my life, 
my love — an' soon we are to be married. 

(CuDDEEN crawls in and takes his place R.) 

Castleton. I am exceedingly sorry for you, my poor girl, but 
the iron hand of justice has crushed the life out of many hearts as 
gentle as yours. {To Squire.) Ah, Squire, you are here to wit- 
ness the arrest. 

Squire. No ; merely a curious observer at the peasants' merry- 
making. 

CuDDEEN {coining forward to Rosaleen). Ye'd better be 
afther telling. Miss Rosaleen darlin', where is Rody. 

{Enter Shevaun, c.) 

Shevaun. Arrah, what's this — the peelers in me house! Oh, 
murther! O Captain, agrah, ye may have all the whiskey in the 
house, if you'll only lave the roof over me head. 

Corkerry {aside). That's a bloomin' bargain I'd make with 
hall me 'art if I wuz Capt'n o' the Royal Hirish Constabulary. 

Castleton. We're not looking for illicit whiskey, my good 
woman. 

Cuddeen. No; we're lookin' for Rody the Rover. 

Corkerry {aside). Hi don't like that Hirishman. He's got a 
face like a weazel suffering from congestion of the liver. 

Cuddeen, Shevaun, ye'd better be tellin' us where is Rody the 
Rover. 

Shevaun. Oh, follow yer nose and find him. 

Castleton. He must have escaped. 

Cuddeen. Yis ; he tuck to the hills. He was too great a coward 
to face the music. 

Patrice. Gentlemen, my brother is no coward. 

Rosaleen. He is innocent of crime, an' has no raison to run 
away. 

(Rody appears at door ; peasa?its crowd np behitid hiin.) 

Cuddeen. He has left the village. 

Rody. It's a lie! {All start; he coines in.) Rody the Rover 
is here, an' is ready to meet any charge an' prove his innocence 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 31 

before the wliole world. (^Folds his an;is, c. stage j peasants crowd 
in doorway; two policemen keep them back by crossing their swords.') 

Castleton {to Rody). My young friend, rest assured I am 
very sorry to be the means of communicatint^ to you the unpleasant 
fact that you are accused of the murder of Edward Burke. 

Rody. What! IVIurdher ! Tm accused of murdher! Who 
are me accusers ? 

Castleton (/^/;/////i,^/^CASSiDY). There stands one. {Show- 
ing stick.) Here is the other. 

Rody. My blackthorn ! 

Casti.eton. Then it is yours — you admit it ! 

Rody. Why, yis, Captain, that's mine. 

Castleton. This stick was used to murder Edward Burke. 

Rody. My stick } Why now I know. I left it in the glen 
last night. 

Castleton. Ah, you also admit you were in the glen. 

Rody {surprised). Why, yis. 

Cuddeen. See, Captain, he admits that he is the murdherer. 

Castleton. Silence ! 

CoRKERRY {flinging Cuddeen aside). Silence in the court! 
Keep your bloomin' face closed. 

Squire. The circumstantial evidence is quite strong. Captain. 

Castleton. Quite strong. If we can prove a motive for the 
murder, it will be stronger. 

Rody. Motive! Sure, what raison would I have for murdherin' 
a poor boy like Teddy Burke, an' have his gray-haired old mother 
to keen for him? Why should I kill him .? 

Castleton. To obtain possession of a will of which he was the 
possessor. He held it for Mr. Lawton. 

Rody. Ye mane me uncle's will ? 

Cuddeen. Yis ; ye said last night that ye meant to get it, an' 
prove verself the thrue owner of the Rossmore estate. 

Rody. I did ! Oh, I see it all now — I see it all ! You, 
Cassidy — you are behind all this, an' maybe me fine Squire 
there ! But I haven't the will. 

S'.UJiRE. It's gone. 

Rody. O Captain, agrah, Pm innocent! 

Cuddeen. As the jail-bird behind the bars. 

Rody. Cassidy, if it takes till the Day of Judgment, you'll be 
paid back for this night's dirty work, believe my word ! 

Castleton. I am sorry for you, Rody. I sincerely hope you 
may clear yourself ; but my sympathy must not interfere with my 
dufv — you are a prisoner, arrested for murder. (Shevaun begins 
to cry.) 

Shevaun. Oo ! Oo ! 

Rody and Rosaleen. Oh, no, no ! (Rosaleen weeps.) 

Castleton {to police). Arrest him. 

{Two officers come forward and arrest Rody.) 



32 



A BIT O BLARNE\. 



Cassidy. Ah, ha, Rody ! I said Pd pay ye back wid compound 
interest, but I niver dreamt ye'd bring the curse of the ]aw on yer 
head for murdher. 

Rody {breaking away and striking Cuddeen). Murther ! 
(CuDDEEN /^7//j- R.) Take that, an' I wish the shackles wor on 
my hands an' the rope on my neck for riddin the country of a snake 
like yourself. 

(^Police seize hi??i again, C.) 

ROSALEEN. O Rody, Rody! 

Rody. Rosaleen, darlin', they're tearing ye away from me, mo 
sthore, mo cJirce I Don't mind, darlin', don't cry, Rosaleen; sure, 
yer te^ars'll break my heart ! (IVarn curtain.^ 

Rosaleen. O Rody, sure the light is lavin' me eyes ! My 
heart is breaking — oh! {Falls in swoon, c. KoT>Y catches her 
in his ar/Jis.) 

Rody {crying). Rosaleen! Rosaleen ! O Captain, it's mighty 
hard intirely. Sure, there's a lump in me heart. Look at that 
pale face there — look! Sure, the color is lavin her purty cheeks ; 
ye've broken her heart. Oh ! {He cries as they drag him away. 
Patrice bends over Rosaleen.) 

CURTAIN. 



ACT III. 

Scene. — A roo?n in the Blar7iey Hoiise. Entrances, c, R. 3 E., 
and L. 2 e. Window entrajice, R. i E. Sofa, l. c. ; table and 
cJiairs, R. c, front ; hnnp lit on table j decanter, glasses, etc. 
Sc^uiRE RossMORE, in ,smoking gown, discovered seated at 
table, R. c, drinki7ig at curtain; lights half down; music 
tremolo. 

Squire. 1 have lived a novel since the discovery of that mur- 
der. Cassidy made a colossal mistake in murdering that servant. 
I suppose he only meant to rob him, and to conceal his crime he 
had to commit a greater one. An innocent man has been arrested, 
and will suffer. He will be legally murdered. Thus one crime 
begets another. There is some strange and inexorable law in the 
universe on that point that human philosophy cannot fathom. 
Strange ! {Ponrs out bra^idy.) Ha ! I'm actually moralizing. 
{Drinks.) Events, however, have taken a good course. Circum- 
stantial evidence is strong against Rody, and it will wind its legal 
red tape around the poor devil until it is cjrawn so tight that it will 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 



33 



squeeze the life out of him. When he is removed (ri'si's), then 
will there be no fears for the future. (^Crossing to l.) Maurice 
Rossmore will be the only heir to this estate, and Rosaleen 
O'Connor will be a lonely girl badly needing the protecting wing 
of one who can raise her from the slough of poverty where the 
Irish people are rotting to this day. Why should I regret it ? It 
is self-defence — the first law of nature. {Crossing to wmdow.) 
Cassidy should be here by this time. He hid the box in the <',len. 
and went to get it. He's got a heart of iron, and superstition seems 
to be dead in him. Why is he not here ? How nervous I am I It's 
near day. {Seats Jiimselfj knocker heard outside.') Hello! The 
knocker ! {Rises,') That is not Cassidy. He's got a key. 
{Going Q.) Who the devil can be calling at'this hour? {At Q.D.) 
The steward is opening the door. {Looks l.) 

Lawton {outside loudly) . I must see him ! I insist ! Stand 
aside or I'll carve the map of Ireland on your face ! 

{Enter Lawton, c, excitedly.) 

Squire {stepping back r). Well, sir? Whom have I the 
honor to thank for this unwelcome visit? 

Lawton. My name, Squire Rossmore, is Lawton. 

Squire. The American ? 

Lawton. Yes. 1 have just returned from Cork City. Neces- 
sity knows no law, social or otherwise. That is win' I jm here at 
this unconventional hour. I want to see you. 

Squire. To the point, if you please. What am I to under- 
stand ? 

Lawton. Simply this. A cousin of yours, whose future destiny 
has been placed in my hands by his uncle, has been arrested on a 
false charge of murder. He was accused by your servant Cassidy. 
Well, that boy is innocent. 

Squire. Well, what has this got to do with me? 

Lawton. Everything. There was a deep and hidden motive in 
til at accusation. The only man to be benefited by the possession 
of that will was yourself. 

Squire. Do'you dare to think — 

Lawton. Tliink ! I never think! It. makes me perspire to 
think ; and the fact of it is — I have never perspired. 

Squire. You mean to insinuate — 

Lawton {coining down). That you are a damned scoundrel! 

Squire. Sir! 

Lawton. Keep your temper. You may explode like a dyna- 
mite shell, and destroy yourself. Excitement is not good for people 
living in glass houses ; it may break them. 

Squire. Sir, you — 

Lawton. Gently, sir. Your mentality is in an unsettled state. 
{Crossing to table, R.) Come over, and I'll settle it for you. 

Squire. Sir, this insolence — 



34 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 



Lawton. Insolence ? A very unpleasant word. Not at all, my 
dear sir. That is simply a plain way of speaking we have out in 
California. Pray take a chair ; I want to quietly discuss this mat- 
ter with you. {Seats himself K. of table.) Sit down, sir. 

Squire, (c). By Heaven, sir — 

Lawton. Pray, don't swear. Damn it ! It jars my nerves. 
{Sternly.) Sit down! Squire Rossmore, as your kinsman Rody's 
representative, I welcome you and request of you to seat yourself 
in his house. Sit down, sir, or by Heaven I'll give you a dose of 
California medicine that will fix you quicker than that given by a 
doctor. {Takes out pistol.) You see I carry my httle bottle of 
leaden pellets right here. {Lays it nearliini on table; Squire seats 
himself relucta?itly.) There, you have saved yourself the very un- 
pleasant duty of eating a couple of my peculiar pills. Now, jesting 
aside. Let us shake hands. {They shake hands.) There, now 
we feel better acquainted. My card. ( lakes out card and hands 
it to Squire.) " Mr. Edward Lawton, Attorney-at-Law, San Fran- 
cisco, California, U.S.A." 

Squire. My uncle died there. 

Lawton. Yes. One year ago, and appointed me his sole ex- 
ecutor. 

Squire. Well ? 

Lawton. He bequeathed this estate of which you are in posses- 
sion to your Cousin Rody, known as " the Rover." My servant 
was murdered, and the box in which the will was has been stolen. 

Squire {rising). Then you have no means of disproving my 
claim to this property. 

Lawton (Squire seats himself again). Now, have you any 
means of proving your claim to this property ? 

Squire. Yes. A document left by my uncle before he left Ire- 
land. 

Lawton. Have you it in your possession ? 

Squire. Yes. 

Lawton. Of course you will show it to me. 

Squire. By what authority ? 

Lawton {touching pistol). By the medical authority. Of 
course you respect such a profound authority. I would like to see 
that will. 

Squire {rising). It is in my bedroom. If you will wait here 
I will bring it to you. 

Lawton. Thanks; I will wait. {Lights cigar a7id smokes.) 

Squire {taking lamp). Excuse the lamp. {Going to c. d., 
csi le.) 1 will also bring down a medical authority, and make him 
acknowledge the legality of my document, bv setting the signature 
and approving the seal of rrty uncle's counsellor upon it. 

Lawton. I am waiting. 

Squire. You shall not wait long. {Aside.) Damn him ! 
{Exit Squire, c, with la7np; lights three- fou7'ths down.) 

Lawton. The Squire is evidently praying for me. That game 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 



35 



of bluff went better than I expected. Irish gentlemen are evidently 
not used to the get-there-it-iveness of our countrymen. (Looks 
out window.) Hello ! The moonlight has gone ; it is getting 
very dark. Well, it is said that the darkest hour is always before 
the dawn. I hope so. {Reticni to table, R. c.) 

{Enter l. 2 e. Lady Patrice with lamp; lights half up.') 

Patrice. I thought I heard somebody talking here. 

Lawton {surprised; rises) . Lady Patrice ! 

'Patrice, {startled). Oh! Who's that ? 

Lawton. Don't be afraid. It is I — Lawton, the American. 

Patrice {relieved). Oh ! You startled me. {Lays lamp on 
table.) 

Lawton. No doubt my visit at this hour is unconventional, but 
the urgency of the case requires it. I am here to clear your brother 
from that terrible charge of which he is innocent. 

Patrice. That I know. Can you set him free ? 

Lawton. Free ! He is free. Free these three hours, though 
Squire Rossmore nor Mr. Cassidy does not know it as yet. 

Patrice. Thank God ! 

Lawton. Of course when I read of the affair in the Co7'k Ex- 
aminer Atv^X. evening I hurried back and produced the will which 
it was alleged Rody had stolen. The charge was absurd. Rody 
had no reason to rob a man of something that was already legally 
his. I had it in my possession ; and it belonged to Rody, and he 
knew it. 

Patrice. And he was released ? Oh, how good you are ! 

Lawton. It makes me happy to have you think so. 

Patrice. Oh, I see you already have the Blarney. 

Lawton. No ; it was stolen. Lady Patrice, if that box con- 
tained the will the only person that would have been benefited by it 
would be Squire Rossmore. 

Patrice. What! You surely don't think that — 

Lawton. Lawyers never think. Rody thinks that he has dis- 
covered the means to capture the real culprit. The last I saw of 
him was an hour ago. He went to Shevaun Jack's to borrow 
something. What it was I don't know. 

Patrice. I hope he will succeed. 

Lawton. I feel sure he will. {Enter c. Cuddeen, excitedly; 
he carries the little box and throws himself at Lawton's feet, R. 
Tremolo 7n7(sic.) 

Lawton {to Patrice aside). Leave the room ! Quick ! 

Patrice. Cassidy is mad! Heaven defend us ! (^.17/ l. 2 e. 
Lawton leavers lavip on table.) 

Cuddeen. Oh, for the love o' Heaven, Squire, save me — save 
me ! He's afiher me ! Look, look ! O Howly Mother, he's afther 
me ! 

Lawton. Who ? 



36 A BIT O' BLARNEY. 

Cassidy. Teddy Burke ! Teddy Burke ! Look — look! HeV: 
pointin' his red fingers at nie ! He's lookin' at me wid those cold 
eyes ! Oh! {S/irinks.) Sure, me soul is shrivellin' from their ic)- 
glance! O Squire, agrah, save me — save me! {Grasps Lavvion 
around legs.) 

Lawton. You've been drinking. 

CuDDEEN. Yis — yis. Afther I left Shevaun's, I wint to the glin 

— to the glin where I murdhered him, to find the box and bring to 
ye. 

Lawton {aside). My God! The murderer! {To Cuddeen ) 
Go on ! Go on ! 

Cuddeen. Ah, I wuz afraid to pass the place, but I wint — I 
wint— there where I struck him down wid Rody's stick. I had 
barely tuk the box frum its hidin' place, whin who should lep out 
before me on the boheen, but Teddy himself in a white shroud. 

Lawton. Proceed ! 

Cuddeen. Shure, I tuk to me two legs as if the divil wuz afther 
me — thim two eyes lookin' at me, and his white lips callin' me 
"murdherer! murdherer ! " I turned wanst to strike him, but me 
hands struck nothin' but the air. 'Tvvas his ghost that was afther 
me. {E?iter Rody, c, disguised as Shevaun i7i a white nightdress 
and cap.) Ha — there it is again ! There it is again ! (Cuddeen 
falls on floor weeping.) 

Rody {imitating Shevaun's voice and jnanner). Sure, I fol- 
lowed Cuddeen Cassidy here. I thought I saw him robbing a reek 
o' turf in the glen, and I followed him. Egorra, I found the door 
open, and kem in. 

Lawton {aside to Rody). Hush ! Hide inside that door there 

— quick ! {Points r. 3 e. ; aloud.) Shevaun, keep your ears sharp 
if you want to free Rody the Rover from murder. 

Rody. Faix, I will that. 

Cuddeen {resuming). This crime is killin' me. It's atin' out 
me insides. 

Rody {aside to Lawton). Whist! He's talkin' ! 

Cuddeen. I murdhered Teddy Burke because I was a desperate 
fool. Sure, I did it (God forgive me) to save me mother from 
starvation. {Weeps 07i floor.) 

Rody. Glory be to goodness ! Shure, he says he murdhered 
Teddy Burke. 

Lawton {aside to Rody). Hush ! In there for your life, quick ! 
{Exit and re-enter Rody, r. 3 e., and talks from doorway.) I'll 
write a brief note, telling the Squire I will return in the morning. 
( Turtis up light ; scribbles a line on paper; lights up tJirce 
quarters.) 

Rody. Whatll Father Murphy think of a dacint, respectable 
widdy woman like meself in this dhress in the Squire's room at this 
hour o' the night ? Oh, wirra ! wirra ! {Exit R. 3 E.) 

Lawton. Hark ! The Squire is coming. I must go. {Starts 
for D. C.) 



A BIT O BLARNEY. T^J 

RODY {poking head out door, r. 3 e.). Ye're not going to lave 
me alone, are ye? 

Lawton {at c. D.). Silence! I'm off for the barracks to find 
the police. Hush ! The Squire is coming ! {Exit c. D.) 

RoDY. Oh, millhe murther, Pm disgraced intirely — Fm ruined — 
Tve lost me kiractor. Father Murphy will raise the divil wid mo 
next Sunday from the altar ! Oh, wirra, wirra ! ohone ! What'U I 
do at all? Blood an' 'ounds, the Squire ! Ohone ! {Exit R. 3 e.) 

{Enter Squire, c.) 

Squire {loudly). There, my eccentric friend, is — {Surprised. ) 
What, vanished — disappeared as quickly as he appeared. What'.-, 
this? {Reads note on table.) "Will return in the morning. E. 
Lawton." I'm damned glad of it. Erratic character! He is the 
strangest — {Sees Cuddeen.) Hello ! Cassidy ! The devil I 

CuDDEEN {half rising). The divil! Yis, that's what I am! 
I'm in hell ! Me tongue is parched, Squire ; for the love o' Heaven 
give me a glass o' that brandy. I'm tremblin' like a lafe. 

Squire. You're drunk ! 

Cuddeen. Yis ; I've just come. {Stretchitig out hand.) The 
dhrink — the dhrink ! {Sqvm^ pours out sorne brandy afid gives it 
to him.) 

Squire. There. You've been drinking too much already. 
You're as white as a ghost. 

Cuddeen {drops glass). Stop, stop, for the love o' Heaven ! 
Teddy's ghost is hauntin' me. 

RODY {poking his head out of^. 3 E.). Begorra, Cuddeen Cas- 
sidy is the first man that iver saw shnakes in Ireland. 

Cuddeen. Dhrops o' sweat are stramin' down all over me. Ah, 
but I got it — I got the box. I put a bottle o' courage in me first at 
Shevaun Jack's shebeen. 

^OTiY {pokes head out of door). Whist! They're talking about 
meself. 

Squire {seating himself ^. of table). Give me the box. 

Cuddeen. Give the pledge o' me mother's freedom from the 
poorhouse first — the money I mane. 

Squire. Cassidy, you've got the commercial instinct; you're a 
business man, I see. There are ten five-pound notes. {Takes out 
nioney afid hands it to Cuddeen.) Fifty pounds altogether. 

Cuddeen. I want a hundred! It's worth a big price. 

Squire {taking ojit more mojtey). There are ten more ; the 
bargain is closed. 

Cuddeen. There's the box, and the will. {Lays box on table; 
takes money and folds it up.) An' now, me fine buccho, we part 
company. {Rises.) I'm going to take me mother to Amerikay. 

Rody {aside). God help us ! She's dead ! 

Squire {to Cuddeen). Wait. Let us first exaiv.ine the will. 
The box is locked. 



38 A BIT O' BLARNEY. 

CuDDEEN. Break it, as I broke Teddy Burke's skull. {Takes 
out knife.) There's me knife. {Gives it to Squire.) 

Squire {foj-cing box). We shall see what the old fool's wishes 
were. {Opens box; Cuddeen and Squire j/^r/ back surprised; 
picture.) What's this.'' 

Cuddeen. Murdher — where is the will? 

RODY {aside). Ha, ha ! 

Squire. There is no will.' What's this ? {Takes out a little 
stone.) A little stone ! 

Cuddeen. A bit o' Blarney ! 

Squire. A mere curiosity! Thunder and damnation! {To 
Cassidy.) Idiot! Knave! 

{Enter Lady Patrice, l. 2 e.) 

Patrice. What is the matter, cousin? 

Squire. Leave the room, Patrice ! Leave the room, I say, 
quick ! 

Patrice. Oh ! {Exit l. 2 e.) 

Squire. Cassidy, you meant to dupe me, to swindle me out of 
a hundred pounds for this stone. {Drops it in box.) 

Cuddeen (c). I committed murdher to get that box. Ye've 
paid me to aise me conscience . 

Rody {aside). Will the skies fall? Sure, they're having a 
business disagreement, an' the devil should be called in to decide 
it. {Exit R. 3 E.) 

Squire. Cassidy, you have not brought me that will ; you have 
not earned the money. It belongs to me. 

Cuddeen {pocketing it). Possession is one of the nine pints o' 
law. Ye'll niver get it. 

Squire. I'll have you arrested for murder I 

Cuddeen. Ye can't ; there'd be two of us. 

Squire {seizing pistol from table). Cassidy, hand over that 
money! Quick! {Points pistol.) 

Cuddeen. Ye coward ! 

{Enter Rosaleen, c.) 

Rosaleen {starting back). Oh ! (Squire and Cuddeen look 
at her startled ; Squire drops pistol; picture. Squire r. ; Cud- 
deen L. ; Rosaleen c.) 

Rosaleen. I ax yer pardon for dhropping in so suddenly. I 
didn't know ye wor talking business. I jist left Teddy Burke's 
wake. 

Cuddeen. Teddy Burke's wake ! Oh ! 

Rosaleen. Yis. Iver since Rody's arrist I couldn't sleep, so 
T stepped over to the wake. There they tould me that Shevaun 
came over here, so I kem afther her. 

Squire. You did a rash thing. She is not here. 

Cuddeen. It's not here ye should be, me colleen. The wake 
is a more filtin' jjlace for ye. 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 



39 



ROSALEEN. It's at the wake ye should be, more shame for ye. 
Ye have more cause to be there than any wan else. 

CuDDEEN {remorsefully). What d'ye mane be that? 

RoSALEEN, Why, don't ye know ? 

CuDDEEN. Know what ? Spake out. 

RosALEEN. That yer poor mother died in the poorhouse to- 
night. 

CuDDEEN {dazed). Me mother dead ? 

ROSALEEN. Yis. 

CuDDEEN. No, no ! It can't be ; yeVe lying. 

RosALEEN. It's the thruth I'm tellin' ye. 

CuDDEEN {seriously) . Then, Squire, all's over betune us. {Takes 
out ino7iey and throws it at Squire's /"^df/, R.) There's yer dirty 
money, an' good riddins, for I'm goin' — {Starts up stage., c.) 

Squire. Going? Where? 

CuDDEEN. To Father Murphy's to confession. 

Squire, And then ? 

CuDDEEN {soleinnly). And thin — to join me mother in her grave ! 

Squire. Cassidy, you're a fool ! 

CuDDEEN. Ah, I wuz a fool whin I murdhered Teddy Burke to 
plaze you / 

Ros ALEKN {/lorriyied). Murdhered Teddy Burke ! You! Oh! 

Squire {desperately). The ass is insane. His mother's death 
has turned his head. 

CuDDEEN {sadly.) Thrue for ye. Squire Rossmore. It has 
turned me head {lookins:; upwards) to where 'me mother's soul is 
now, I hope. Squire Rossmore, listen. I killed Teddy Burke to 
get that will for ye, so ye could destroy Rody's right to this prop- 
erty. Heaven has chated our designs, and taught me a greater 
lesson than w^nn of Father Murphy's sermons. {Starts for D. c.) 

Squire. You fool ! Where are you going ? 

CuDDEEN. To the chapel first, to ax mercy from God; to the 
barracks afterwards, to ax no mercy from man ! {Exit c.) 

RosALEEN {horrified). Oh! Rody's saved! God's will be 
done! {Starts to exit, c.) 

Squire. Stop, my pretty girl. You must not leave this room. 
{Takes off sinoking-robe a?id throivs it across chair ^ R.) If things 
are coming to this pretty pass, I must have one taste of happiness 
before I come to the end of my golden string. {Sta?ts to catch 
her.) 

RosALEEN. Don't touch me! Help ! help ! 

Squire {seizing her). You're alone in my house at night ! 

{Enter Rody, r. 3 e.) 

RODY. (c). It's a he for ye! {Thi'ows off disguise, and fiings 
Squire aside.) I'm here wid her. 

Squire. You ! {Starts back surprised, R.) 
ROSALEEN. Rody ! 



40 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 



RODY {clasping her). Yis — the Rover! I'm the ghost that 
frightened the thruth out o' poor Cassidy. His neck'll make a 
purty tit for a collar made of a good stout rope. 

Squire. Scoundrel ! 

RoDY. An' as for ye, me lovin' cousin, ye'll have to pay the 
piper thatUI play at his wake. 

Squire {seising knife on table). By Heaven ! Pll pay you back 
before this game is up ! {Makes a rush at Rody.) 

RosALEEN {screamifig). Help ! Oh ! 

{Enter Castleton, c, followed by Lawton and t2uo policemen,) 

Castleton {-Ifointiug pistol). Drop it ! Quick! 

Squire {drops knife). Damnation ! 

Castleton {to policemen). Arrest Squire Rossmore I 

{Ttvo policemen advance and place Squire under arrest., r. c.) 

Rody. Begorra, Columbus wuz right — the world goes around. 

Castleton {to Lawton, l.). Cassidy is already in custody. 
{To Squire.) You are under arrest as an accomphce in the mur- 
der of Edward Burke. 

Squire. I? 

Castleton. Yes ; and also for fraud. You have no right to 
the possession of this property. 

Squire. The old Squire's will there proves my claim. None 
other exists ! 

Lawton {crossing r. to table). Let me see that. {Takes it 
np and looks at it.) Like the man that owned it — false. It is a 
forgery. {Tears it.) Here is the real thing, left by old Rossmore. 
{Takes out will.) It proves Rody the Rover sole heir and owner 
of this property. {Gives Rody the will.) 

Castleton. Remove the prisoner. 

Squire {going out looking at Rody). May ill luck attend 
you ! 

Rody. Squire, darling we'll keep your mimory green be watherin' 
it wid whiskey. 

{Exeunt Squire and policemen c. d. ; e7iter Patrice, l. 2 e.) 

Patrice {to Lawton). O Mr. Lawton, I'm glad you're here ! 

Lawton {going to her). I've come to stay, at Rody's invitation. 
, Castleton {to Rody). I congratulate you, Squire Rody. 

Rody. Thank ye, sor. {Puts on Squire's robe.) 

Castleton. Good-morning. {Exit c.) 

Rosaleen. Rody, darlin', the dawn is appearing. Listen ! The 
birds are singin' in the furze-bushes outside. 

Rody {taking her r. c). Shure, darlin', the sun'll rise as glori- 
ous as meself in a minute. 



A BIT O BLARNEY. 4I 



{Enter Darbey Darney mid peasants^ c.) 

Darbey. Sure, Rody, I wuz playin' at Teddy Burke's wake whin 
I heard the good news. The top o' the mawernin', Sqnii'e Rody. 
Huroo for the County Cork and Blarney Castle ! 

Peasants. Huroo ! huroo ! (IVarn curtahi ; lively dance nmsic 
to acco}npaiiy Darbey, who begins to play the fiddle.^ 

Rody. What the divil are you doing, Darbey? 

Darbey. Shure, I'm playing a new chune. 

Rody (c, taking up box f?-om table, and taking ojit little stone') . 
Call it the " Bit o' Blarney." Whoo ! {All dance.) 

POSITIONS. 

Lawton and Patrice, l. c; Rody and Rosaleen, c; Darbey 
and fiddle, r. c. ; peasants at rear; picture; dance.) 

CURTAIN. 



SCENE PLOT. 

Act I. 

Full Stage : a Glen at night. 
Night landscape drop, with winding river and castle. 





River. 




__C^stle^^O____^ 


r" Bunch 
Light. 




Low Rocks. 

Furze Tree. 



grass 




Rock wing. 


Rocky run. 
mats and flowers. 


Tree. 


Tree wing. 


Tree wing. 


Green Bank. 
Green baize down ; 



Note. — Fix yellow flowers on tree R.c. every night. 

Act II. 

Full Stage: a plain Kitchen (boxed). 
Landscape Backing. ^^ 



R. 3 E. 



Red 


Light. 



Low casement window 




c. 








Door. 








Old-fashioned 1 
Fireplace. | 








Cupboard. 









<^ 


e 


Zlhain 


Board 


floor ; sand ft 


Table and 
Chairs. 

)r dancing. 





Note. — Have kettle covered with lampblack hanging in fireplace. 



Act III. 

Scene I. — Interior Office Flats in one. 

Scene IL — Full Stage: Fashionable Interior (boxed). 

SCENE IL 

Hallway Backing. 



Practical 
Trees. 
Tall 



Door. 
Window. 


Table. 


c. Door. 

D 

Chair. 




P 


Tropic 
Plant. 

Door 

Sofa. 


1 
Carpet medallion and 


rugs 


down. 


^•"^^-^^ 



Note. — Light two lamps. 
42 



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A NEW PLAY FOR GIRLS, 



The Chaperon, 

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS, 

By RACHEL E. BAKER, 

PART AUTHOR OF "AFTER TAPS," ETC. 



:cn female characters. Scenery not difficult. Costumes, tennis gowns 
and modern street and evening gowns, with picturesque 
Gypsy costumes for Miriam and Jill. Time 
in playing, two and a half hours. 



Price 



SVNOPSIS: 



AOT 1. Jack AND Jill. A love game. Cousins for sale. " My kingdom for 
a, hHir[>in." The French teacher. A few conundrums. Miriam and Jill. 
The Gypsy's blessing. Kora and the French language. Billet-doux and 
Billy IManahan. An invitation. "I will be your chaperon ! " Telling for- 
tunes. The Tennis Drill. Tales out of school. Joyce and the beggars. 
The accuncUion. Joyce to the rescue. "I cannot look into your eyes and 
believe you guilty." Under a cloud. The Gypsy's prophecy. "Miriam the 
Gypsy has spoken, and she never breaks her word." 

ACT II. The Chaperon. In the studio. Nora and the man in armor, A 
spiritual manifestation. Eavesdropping, Locked in. The artist's model. 
A little lark. The bogus chaperon. The skeleton in the closet. Konico 
and Juliet adapted. Miriam the Gypsy. The secret of the papers. "God 
be Avith th' m and with those to whom they belong ! " Masquerading. 
Nora's jig. A surprise and an escape. The school-ma'am outwitted. The 
Minuet. Jill and Joyce. The locket. "It means that the waif has founci 
a home at last ! " Sisters. The Gypsy again. " Your duty lies Avith them 
make their lives as happy as you have mine." 

ACT TIL "Like Other Girls." A five o'clock tea. Anticipations. TI; 
French teacher again. A lesson in politeness. A nice hot cup of tc.i. 
Nora's revenge. Apologies. Mademoiselle's confession. " I took it ; it was 
only for ze revenge." Forgiveness. " liushiyic/ tea.." Confessions. From 
grave tc gay. An Adaniless Eden. Superfluous man: a few portraits of 
him.T. Exphaiations. The fulfilment of Miriam's prophecy. A mystery 
cleared. ' 'llu; little one I niourned as dead is alive," Our chaperon, 



Something for ''Secret Societies." 



JOINING THE TlNPflNlTES, 

OR, PADDY MCFLING'S EXPERIENCE. 

(PART I.) 

A jviock: inixiau^ion. 

FOR THE AMUSEMENT AND INSTKUCTION OK SECRET SOCIETIES. ADAPTED TO ALU 

ORDERS, AND CONTAINING NOTHING TO OFFEND ANY 

SECRET ORGANIZATION. 

By David Hili^, 

Author lit' " Forced to the War," "Bound by an Oath," "Out of his Si>hcro," 
"Placer Gold," "The Granger," etc. 

For thirteen male characters and supers. Scenery unlniportar.t, the 
stage representing the interior of a lodge-room. Costumes, hurlesqus; T'egali.-.. 
Plays forty-five minutes. This is an uproarously funny travestie of the forms 
of initiation, and is just the thing for a lodge-room entertainment. Any uuniber 
xd men can assist as membersjetc. 

Price, . • . 15 cents. 



By the Author of "A Box of Monkeys." 

The Corner-Lot Chorus- 

A FARCE IN ONE ACT. 

F0R ^ FEMALE # CHARAGTERS ^ eNL^Y 
By Grace Livingston Furniss. 

As Originally Performed by "The Twelfth -Night Club," at the 
Lyceum Theatre, New York, on May 7, 1891. 

Seven female characters who speak, and ten Jury Gins. Costumes, mo(!i^ u 
and tasteful. Scenery of little or no importance. Plays about foi'ty mii;u!<s 
This clever little piece, by the iuithor of "A Box of Monkeys," satirizes w ih 
a two-edged blade a foolish social exclusiveness a«d the weak side of am;', d nr 
actors, and with bright and clever performers is a sure success. It atforut- a 
ehance for elegaiit dressing, if desired, and for telling local hit.'-. lii its origina,} 
p«!8rformance by professional actresses it was a laughing success^ 

Price, ... 35 cents. 



A New Comedy. 



COUNSEL FOR THE PLAINTIFF. 

A COMEDY IN TWO ACTS. 

By ST. CLAIR HURD. 

For four male and five female characters. Scenery, two Interior?, 
easily arranged; costumes modern and simple. Plays an hour and a 
half. Tliis little piece has more plot than is usual ni plays ot its leiigLa, 
and works up to an exciting climax. Solomon Nathan is a capita, 
comedy part, and Phineas Phunnel and Plio^be Stopper excellent eccen 
trie character parts. This piece has been many times successfully per- 
formed from manuscript. 

Price .... 15 cents. 



FOR FEWIALE CHARACTERS ONLY. 



A VISION OF FAIR WOMEN. 

A DRAMATIC PARAPHRASE IN ONE SCENE, 
Based upon Tennyson's ** Dream of Fair Wonnen." 

By EDITH LYNWOOD WINN. 

(As presente 1 by the Polymnia Society «f Shorter College, 
Koine, Oa., April, 18»».; 

Thirtv-nine girls are called for by the full text of this excellent 
entertaii ment, besides the "Dreamer" who has the vision; but a 
smaller number may be used, at pleasure, by simply reducing the num- 
bei of tab eaux. No scenery is required, and the costumes can be casi y 
contr ved by home talent. This is a very picturesque and enjoyab e 
entertahiment. and by giving a large number of pretty girls a chance to 
look their best, is sure to please them and every one else. 
Price .... 15 cents. 

WHO'S toInherit? 

A COMEDY IN ONE ACT. 
FOR FEriHALE CHARACTERS ONLY. 

For nine female characters. Scene, an easy interior; costumes, 
mode.-n ad simple. Margery is a " rough diamond," who always speaks 
!nnd Miss Chatter, Miss Pry and Miss Nicely are a very amusing 
pi,, of gossips, to whom Mrs. Fitzfudge's sharp tongue is a. terror. 
Price , ... 15 cents. 



ANOTHER "COUNTRY SCHOOL." 



THE OLD-FASHIONED 

HUSKING BEE. 

AN OLD FOLKS ENTERTAINMENT IN ONE SCENE. 



By NETTIE H. PELHAWI. 



For eleven male ami five fenialo characters, and as many nioro as desired. 
Scene, tlie interior of a barn, easily arranged; costumes, old fasliioncd. Plays 
forty minutes or more, according to number of songs and specialties i;:tr()du(.HMl. 
A'ery easy to get up, and very funny. An excellent introduction for a dance, 
supper or sociable, where a mixed entertainment is desired. 
Price, . . , . 15 Cents. 

SVNOPSIS: 
SCENI<:. — Uncle Nathan's barn. Bobby and Scipio. In black and white. A 
few conundrums. " Silence am gold." Gathering of the neighbors. Music 
and fun. Thomas Jefferson is heard from. " Von leedle song," by Solomon 
Levi. Betsy and Josiah. A leap-year courtsliip. Algernon Fitznoodle and 
Little Lord Fauntleroy. The dude and llie darling. Fitznoorie takes a 
tumble. Patrick and Ah Sin. Kace prejudices. Harmony out of discord. 
Music. Betsy and the swing. A little mistake. lU'tsy r.-oites. The 
HuMA^'ii'H02,'E. Pat and Kitty. The red ear. '* Hurrah for supper ! " 



A DOUBLE SHUFFLE 



.A. COnVLEID-X- I3Sr 03SrE Jk.CT. 



By HARRY O. HANLON. 



Three male and two female characters. Scenery and costumes very siniple. 
An admirable little parlor piece, playing about thirty-five minutes. Fred 
Si )niers, a collegian, with a taste for practical joking, tries to play a little joke 
on h's sister and his fiancee, but they succeed in turning the tables completely 
upon him and his two college chums. Very bright and amusing. A sure hit. 

Price, . . . , 15 Cents. 



GEORGE M. BAKER'S PLAYS. 

Price 15 cents, unless otherwise stated. 



ABOVE THE CLOUDS. Drama in two 

acts. 7 males, 4 females. 
AMONG THE BREAKERS. Drama in 

two acts. 6 males, 4 females. 
BETTER THAN GOLD. Drama in four 

acts. 5 males, 4 females. 25 COntS. 

BON-BONS. Musical entertainment. 3 males, 

I female. 25 CentS. 

BOSTON DIP, THE. Comedietta in one 

act. 4 males, 3 females. 
BREAD ON THE WATERS. Drama in 

two acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
CAPULETTA. Burlesque in two parts. 3 

males, i female. 

CHAMPION OF HER SEX, THE. Farce 

in one act. 8 females. 

CHRISTMAS CAROL, A. Christmas en- 
tertainment from Dickens. Many char. 

CLOSE SHAVE, A. Farce in one act. 6 
males. 

COALS OF FIRE. Farce in one act. 6 
males. 

COMRADES. Drama in three acts. 4 males, 

3 females. 25 CentS. 
DOWN BY THE SEA. Drama in two 

acts.- 6 males, 3 females. 
DROP TOO MUCH, A. Farce in one act. 

4 males, 2 females. 

DUCHESS OF DUBLIN, THE. Farce in 
one act. 6 males, 4 females. 

ENLISTED FOR THE WAR. Drama in 

three acts. 7 males, 3 females. 

FAIRY OF THE FOUNTAIN, THE. 

Play for children in two acts. 10 char. 25c. 

FLOWER OF THE FAMILY, THE. 

Comedy-drama in three acts. 5 males, 3 fern. 
FLOWING BOWL, THE. Drama in three 

acts. 7 males, 3 females. 25 centS. 

FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. Farce in 

one act. 8 males. 

GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY. Farce 

in one act. 12 males. 
GREAT ELIXIR, THE. Farce in onr ict. 

9 males. 

GREATEST PLAGUE IN LIFE, THE. 

Farce in one act. 8 females. 
GRECIAN BEND, THE. Farce in one 

act. 7 females. 

HUMORS OF THE STRIKE, THE. 

Farce in one act. 8 males. 
HYPOCHONDRIAC, THE. Farce in one 

act. - 5 males. 
LAST LOAF, THE. Drama in two acts. 

5 males, 3 females. 

LIGHTHE ART'S PILGRIMAGE. Alle- 

gory for schools. 8 females and chorus. 

LITTLE BROWN JUG, THE. D»ama in 

three acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
LITTLE MORE CIDER. A. Farce in one 

act. 5 males, 3 females. 
LOVE OF A BONNET, A. Farce in one 

act. 5 females. 

MAN WITH THE DEMIJOHN, THE. 

Farce in one act. 4 males. 
MY BROTHER'S KEEPER. Drama in 

three acts. 5 males, 3 females. 

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, A. 

Farce in one act. 4 males. 
MY UNCLE THE CAPTAIN. Farce in 

one act. 6 males. 
NEVER SAY DIE. Farce in one act. 3 

males, 3 femalew 
NEVADA. Drama in three acts. 8 males, 3 

females. 25 cents. 



NEW BROOM SWEEPS CLEAN, A, 

h arce in one act. 6 males. 
NO CURE, NO PAY. Farce in one act. 7 

females. 
ONCE ON A TIME. Drama w two act? 

4 males, 2 females., 

ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. Drama 

in two acts. 8 males, 3 females. 
ORIGINAL IDEA, AN. Dialogue for a 

lady and gentleman. 
OUR FOLKS. Drama in three acts. 6 ms«'es, 

5 females. 

PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE. Farce 

in one act. 7 males, 3 females. 
PAST REDEMPTION. Drama in four 
acts. 9 males, 4 females. 25 centS. 

PEDLAR OF VERYNICE, THE. Bur- 

lesque. 7 males. 
PRECIOUS PICKLE, A. Farce in one 

act. 6 females. 
PUBLIC BENEFACTOR, A. Farce in 

one act. 6 males. 
REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. Drama in three 

acts. 16 females. 25 CSIltS. 

RED CHIGNON, THE. Farce in one act. 

6 females. 

REVOLT OF THE BEES, THE. Mu- 

sical allegory. 9 females. 
RUNAWAYS, THE. Farce in one act. 4 

males. 
SANTA CLAUS' FROLICS. Christmas- 

tree entertainment. Many char. 
SCULPTOR'S TRIUMPH, THE. Alle- 

gory. I male, 4 females. 

SEA OF TROUBLES, A. Farce in one 
act. 8 males. 

SEEING THE ELEPHANT. Temper- 
ance farce. 5 males, 2 females. 

SEVEN AGES, THE. Tableau entertain- 
ment. 7 males, 4 females. 

SHALL OUR MOTHERS VOTE] Hu- 
morous debate for 11 boys. 

SNOW BOUND. Musical and dramatic en- 
tertainment. 3 males, i fomale. 25 CentS. 

STAND BY THE FLAG. Drama in one 
act. 5 males. 

SILVIA'S SOLDIER. Drama in two acts. 
3 males, 2 females. 

TEMPTER, THE. Drama in one act. 3 
males, i female. 

TENDER ATTACHMENT, A. Farce in 
one act. 7 males. 

THIEF OF TIME, THE. Farce in one 
act. 6 males. 

THIRTY MINUTES FOR REFRESH- 

mentS. Farce in one act. 4 males, 3 fern. 

THORN AMONG THE ROSES, A. Com. 

edy in one act. 2 males, 8 females. 
TITANIA. Play for children in two acts. 
Many char. 25 centS. 

TOO LATE FOR THE TRAIN. Dialogue 

for 2 males, introducing songs and recitations. 

TOURNAMENT OF IDYLWENT, THE. 

Allegory for 13 females. 
VISIONS OF FREEDOM. Allegory for 

16 females. 
USING THE WEED. Farce in one act. 

7 females. 

WANTED, A MALE COOK. Farce in 

one act. 4 males. 
WAR OF TFK ROSES. Allegory for 8 
females. 

WE'RE ALL TEETOTALERS. Farce fn 

one scene. 4 males, 2 females. 



WALTER H. BAKER, & CO; 



Boston, Mass 



B 



AKER^S 5ELEC 
OF JUVENILE 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



Designed especially for Church, School. ®„.®i7_^?A_^5?^J?. || 

izations. Complete, -with all the music and full directions for 
performance. 



Grandpa's Birthday. In One Act. Words by Dexter Smith; 
music by C. A. WniTic. For one adult (male or female) and three 
children; chorus, if desired. Pkice, 25 Cents. 

Jimmy, The Newsboy. In One Act. Written and composed by 
W. C. PAKKKit. For one adult (male), and one boy. No chorus. 
Very easy and tuneful. Piuce, 25 Cents. 

The Four-leafed Clover. In Three Acts. By Maky B. Hokne. 

For children of from six to fifteen years. Seven boys, seven girls, 
and chorus. Very picturesque. . Price, 50 Cents. 

Beans and Buttons. In One Act. Words by Wm. H. JiEPEUE ; 
music by Alfkkd G. IIobyn. Two male and two female characters; 
no chorus. Very comical and easy. Pkice, 50 Cents. 

Hunt the Thimble. In One Act. Words by A. G. Lewis; music by 
Leo K. Lkwis. Two male, two female characters and small chorus. 
Simple and pretty. Piuce, 50 Cents. 

Red Ridiiig Hood's Rescue. In Four Scenes. Words by J. E. 
Estabkook; music by J. Astor Broad. Three male, four female 
characters and chorus. Price, 50 Cents. 

Golden Hair and the Three Bears. In Five Scenes. By J. Astor 
Broad. Three adults (2 m., 1 f.), eight children and chorus. Music 
is easy, graceful, and pleasing. Price, 75 Cents. 

R. E. Porter ; or, The Interviewer and the Fairies. In Three 
Acts. Words by A. G. Lkwis; music by Leo R. Lewis. Six male, 
six female characters, and chorus. Very picturesque and pretty. 

Price^ 75 Cents. 

Gyp, Junior. In Two Acts. Words by Earl Marble; music by 
D. F. Hodges. Two males, one female (adult), three children and 
chorus. Very successful and easily produced. Price, 75 Cents. 

Alvin Gray ; or, The Sailor's Return. In Three Acts. Written 
and composed by C. A. White. Ten characters, including chorus; 
can be made more effective by employing a larger number. 

Price, 75 Cents. 



Catalogues describing the above and other popular entertain- 
ments sent free on application to 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 

THEATRICAL PUBLISHERS, 

No. 23 Winter Street, - Boston, Mass. 

S. i. PARKHILL i. CO., PRINTERS, 222 FRANKl IN ST, BOSTOtl. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 401 152 7 



